


Getting Personal

by OracleObscured



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bondage, Caning, Dom/sub, F/M, Feels, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Paddling, Rimming, Semi-Public Mutual Masturbation, Sex Toys, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 165,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OracleObscured/pseuds/OracleObscured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione places an anonymous personal ad in The Daily Prophet. Snape is looking for a new lease on life. Will they be what the other needs, or will the past be too much for them to overcome?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Did the Monster Mash

**Author's Note:**

> In case you can't tell from most of my other stories, I'm a hopeless spankophile, and this story is no exception. I stick with what turns me on. I want to warn you that while the first chapter is sort of fun and hot, the rest of the story is pretty serious. Hermione has post-traumatic issues, and Snape has changed and is trying to figure out who he is now that he's free to live his own life. It is emotionally intense. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Severus scanned The Daily Prophet with half an eye as he drank his morning coffee. He preferred to arrive in the Great Hall before the throng of students, taking his breakfast in relative solitude. His brain couldn’t withstand the ruckus of babbling children before the sweet thread of coffee stitched his brain back together. Their constant chattering grated his nerves like fingernails on a blackboard.

He snorted when he caught sight of the personals.

     _Widowed witch seeks mature man. No beards please._

_Professional wizard, 57, seeks friendly, intelligent female. Experienced duelers preferred._

_Young, pretty witch seeking long-term partner. Male or female. Not Both. Not again._

_Male Dragon Trainer, 25, seeks smoking-hot witch. Must know first aid._

Snape was already turning the page when he noticed the last entry.

     _27 y.o. witch seeks disciplinarian/dominant/sexual relief. Must be experienced and available nights and/or weekends._

Severus stroked his lower lip, thinking. It had been quite some time since he’d turned a witch over his knee. He missed that thrill of control, that flush of color on a well-spanked bottom, that glint of dew shining between her petals.

Lately his fucking had become perfunctory. It was a means to an end. And to be honest, it wasn’t happening all that frequently. When his sanity seemed at a breaking point, he relented and found a willing partner. The sex was good for both parties, but it was just that: good. He hadn’t really played with anyone in years . . . or decades. Dear Merlin, had it been that long? What was he waiting for? He wasn’t getting any younger.

The contact name under the ad read _BookGirl79_.

Hopefully that meant she enjoyed reading and was, therefore, not an idiot. As the first clumps of students began to arrive, Severus tore the ad from The Prophet and disappeared back to the dungeons, where he could consider the pros and cons of responding in the peace of his room.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

BookGirl79,

I’ve never answered a personal ad before, but your request sparked my imagination. It has been a number of years since I last took on the role of disciplinarian. Life seems to have led me on a winding detour away from myself. Your ad made me realize how long I’d been wandering. I appreciate the rescue even if unintentional.

I don’t know what you want to know about me, so I’ll keep my description brief. I’m 46, single (never married), 6’2, thin (too thin), pale skin, black hair and eyes. I won’t lie to you, I’m not an attractive man; but I have had extensive experience with dominant/submissive sexual pairings and discipline.

If my appearance and age are not offensive to you, please feel free to write me back. It would be helpful if you gave me a clear idea about what, exactly, you’re looking for; then I’ll know whether my strengths suit your needs. (I would be willing to refer you to someone more appropriate should we find ourselves incompatible.)

—Sir60  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Sir60,

Thank you for your honest and civil response. It was a breath of fresh air in a fog of frighting and uncouth replies. Whittling down my possibilities to three hasn’t been difficult. Between the vulgar threats and horrendous spelling, the pile of discards has overtaken my rubbish bin.

Your age is not disagreeable to me at all. If anything, I prefer older men. (And you’re not that old.) As for your appearance, I’ll withhold my judgement. I’m far more interested in what you’re like as a dominant and what you’re like as a man. I prefer intelligence over good looks.

I’m not completely sure how to describe what I’m looking for. I’ve never been in a dominant/submissive relationship before. I’ve never even been spanked. But the fantasies are starting to intrude on my real life. When I’m alone, it’s all I think about.

It’s a relief to explain this in a letter rather than face to face. I haven't even told my friends yet.

I would say the majority of my fantasies are schoolgirl punishment themed (spanking, caning, paddling, slippering, standing in the corner etc.). But I need it to be sexual too. I need someone with control who can shag me properly. I don’t want to wind up with my bum blistered masturbating in the loo. If you’re only into the punishment side of things, I understand, just please tell me now so neither of us wastes our time.

Also, I don’t like pretending to be bad. I don’t like being in trouble. I know that sounds contradictory coming from someone who wants a spanking more than her next meal, but I want to make sure you understand me up front.

I’m terrified of trying all this (especially with a stranger), so finding someone who can be authoritative without being scary is my first goal (and I wouldn’t want to sleep with someone mean).

If I don’t sound completely batty to you now, and you think you can help me, please write me back.

I hope to hear from you soon.

—BookGirl79

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

BookGirl79,

I’ve read your letter several times now, and I believe I understand what you want.

You want a lover who wears many hats. He would be both your knight in shining armor and the perverted headmaster who fingers your bottom after a good caning, the Romeo who reads you sonnets and then ties you to the bed to tease you for hours on end.

I am no one’s knight in shining armor. And while I do enjoy Shakespeare, I have never whispered his verse in a lover’s ear. I am just a man. I have faults. A hard life has left me acrimonious and caustic. I can’t pretend to be otherwise any more than you could suddenly take on the role of bratty bad girl.

A resolution of circumstances in my past has changed my demeanor to some degree. Age has softened my sharper edges as well. While I am still considered sardonic by most, I don’t believe anyone would classify me as cruel. Intimidation is necessary in some instances, but if requested, I could rein it in. I doubt there would be much need for it with someone so eager to please.

Let me guess, you have a demanding career where you are in command. You work overtime constantly. Pressure and success are your driving forces. Am I right? Do you ever get to bed before midnight anymore? When was the last time you took a holiday?

What you need and what you want are two different things. I believe I can supply what you need.

I have no issue with blending punishment and pleasure. In my experience they complement one another. Turning a naughty bottom red will cleanse the soul, but willing obedience is obtained though mental and physical satisfaction. Rest assured, the witches I bed are not left wanting. (Occasionally they are left limping, but only on request.)

If you’re still interested in pursuing this, I look forward to your reply.

—Sir60  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Sir60,

I’ve been thinking about your last letter. A lot. How did you know I was a workaholic? And what led you to believe I’m eager to please? I’m not denying either of these labels; I just can’t imagine how you guessed.

And you were also right about wanting a lover who wears many hats. While I have an ideal in my mind, I'm not averse to variations. I don’t expect anyone to be perfect. We all have faults. Just be aware that if you verbally abuse me, I will leave. I won’t put up with cruelty.

Sonnets are nice, but that’s not what I want in bed. I just need someone to take me in hand when I’m tense and hold me when I’m broken. And he needs to be able to tell the difference. I need order and passion (and maybe a good dose of perversion).

Does your diagnosis match mine?

Eagerly awaiting your reply,  
  
BookGirl79  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

BookGirl79,

It wasn’t any one thing you said that revealed your personality traits. It was the combination of schoolgirl punishments, wanting to be dominated sexually, and your denial of being a bad girl. The whole tone of your letter was forthright. You’re a good girl and, therefore, like to please. You come from a nice middle-class family where praise was lavished on your achievements. (Only child?) Now you need that praise and order, but in the real world, praise is in short supply. You rely on the order to maintain your sanity, but you long for the success of childhood. That freedom and playfulness you once thrived on has been replaced by bills and deadlines, responsibilities and expectations. Being the repentant schoolgirl liberates you from life’s pressures. Someone else will be in charge. I suspect you're also quite hard on yourself (for reasons real or imaginary). You think you're deserving of the punishment you seek.

There is more I could conjecture, but it would be pure speculation. Your aversion to “mean” and “scary” adds another layer to the picture. I’ll reserve any further analyzation for a later date.

I think your diagnosis is fairly accurate (perhaps a pinch more perversion). I won’t be able to fully assess the situation until we meet. Sometimes what a witch needs most isn’t clear until we’re face to face.

If you would like to meet somewhere public to vet me further, I’m willing to submit to your scrutiny.

Let me know,  
  
Sir60  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Sir60,

I’m a little disturbed by your ability to pinpoint my past with such clarity. Am I that transparent? You’re bound to find me an absolute bore if we go out. I’ll tell you I want a white wine, and you’ll know the name of my childhood cat based on the year I choose.

I think I would like to know you even outside the bedroom. You seem intelligent and insightful. I don’t understand you at all. You tell me you’re unattractive and sarcastic, but then you write things that make me wetter than the English Channel; and now you seem to know my motives better than I know them myself.

I would very much like to meet you. If you’re up for it, the Ministry is hosting a fancy dress masque at Earlgrave’s Hotel on Halloween. I’m going with a few friends. (I haven’t decided as what yet.) If you promise you’re not a serial killer, tell me what you’ll be dressed as, and I’ll find you. That way if we don’t get on well together in person, we can just go our separate ways without revealing our identities.

Don’t interpret anything from this,  
  
BookGirl79  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

BookGirl79,

I won’t be able to get there until ten due to an unavoidable previous commitment. I’ll be the pirate in black.

All words are revealing,  
  
Sir60  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione eyed the ballroom doors, only half listening to Ginny and Luna guess the identities of the other guests. It was one minute to ten. She didn’t want him to sneak by when she wasn’t looking. Her Marie Antoinette costume was hot, and she kept using her prop fan for its actual purpose.

Ginny poked her in the arm. “What is up with you tonight? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Hermione needed to tell them. It would be safer if they knew. “I’m . . . uh . . . sort of waiting for someone.”

Luna and Ginny glanced at each other.

“Who?” Luna asked with an airy smile.

Hermione sighed. “I’m not sure.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not sure? You’ll just know he's ripe for accosting when you spot him?”

Hermione smiled. “No. I . . . I put a personal ad in The Daily Prophet. We’ve been owling each other for a couple of weeks.” She knew she was blushing.

“You put an ad in The Prophet? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ginny grinned. “So you really don’t know who he is?”

“No idea. I told him to meet me here tonight, and we’d see how things went in person.”

Ginny started searching the crowd, an excited gleam sparking behind her superhero mask. “How will you know it’s him?”

“He said he’d be here after ten, wearing a black pirate costume.”

“And you haven’t seen him yet?”

“It’s just now ten.”

Luna scratched at her butterfly mask, her expression serene. “There’s a black pirate by the punch bowl.”

Hermione spun around, her heart thudding. She spotted the wizard and sighed, turning back to Ginny and Luna. “No, that’s Dean. I mean he’ll be _wearing_ all black. Besides, he’s older.”

Ginny smirked. “How much older?”

“Mid-forties.”

Ginny’s laughing eyes went back to the main doors. “Dirty girl.”

Hermione pulled her wand from the hidden sheath in her dress and cast a cooling charm on herself. “Is it just me, or is it absolutely sweltering in here?”

Luna sipped her punch. “I’m fine.”

Ginny snorted. “I’m fine too. You’re just nervous.”

Hermione scratched under the edge of her wig. “No, I think it’s this dead Manticore on my head.”

All three of them watched the doors, peering through the milling throng of partygoers.

Ginny snagged a glass of champagne as it floated by on a silver serving tray. “How many men have you met so far?”

“This is the only one. I got lots of replies, but this one was my favorite.”

“This is so romantic,” Luna said dreamily.

Hermione blushed. Was meeting a dom supposed to be romantic? That didn’t sound right. She was just excited.

“There he is,” Luna said, nodding toward the doors.

Hermione’s heart wasn’t just pounding, it was louder than the thumping bass of the music. The whole hall was going to hear her soon. It _was_ him; Luna was right about that. He was head to toe black: boots and breeches, billowing shirt and mask. His black hair was pulled back in a small ponytail. He looked like the Dread Pirate Roberts. His eyes weren’t visible from where she stood, but the rest of his description fit.

Ginny grinned and pushed her forward. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Hermione stayed rooted to the floor. Now that he was there, she was even more apprehensive. This man knew more about her than most of her friends. He knew that she wanted her bum smacked. He knew that she needed a good shagging. He knew too much.

Her eyes followed him as he made his way around the periphery of the room. He was subtly searching the crowd, his stride slow but sure, making his way toward the punch bowl. A few witches smiled at him as he passed, but he just nodded at them in a way that was neither friendly nor unfriendly.

Ginny pushed her shoulder again. “Go on. He looks decent enough. Nice arse.”

Hermione glanced at his bum. It was hard to miss in those tight trousers. She blushed again.

“Nice sword too,” Luna commented.

Ginny snorted. “Yes. Go ask him if you can touch it.”

Hermione laughed and took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes. Do I look all right?”

Ginny and Luna both studied her for a few seconds, and then Ginny nodded. “Yes. Marvelous. Just don’t bend over, or your tits are gonna pop out.”

Hermione looked down at her cleavage. The bodice was tight and the neckline low. She was going to make one hell of a first impression. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Luna said.

Hermione wove through the crowd, her heart increasing to a brisk jog the closer she got. He was filling a cup with punch when she got there, and she stared at his black back for a second before her voice started working. “Sir sixty?”

He turned to her and gave her a once over. “Book girl?”

She nodded.

“You’re stunning,” he said evenly.

Hermione smiled. “Thank you.”

“I was hoping you’d have a giant hairy mole on your face or buck teeth or something. Then I’d at least stand a chance.”

Hermione mashed her lips together over her teeth, thinking how she once did. “Don’t be silly. You look wonderful.”

Snape snorted and handed her the punch. “You haven’t seen me without the mask yet."

“I like your costume. Very dashing.” She smiled, sipping the punch and checking out his arse while he poured himself a new cup.

“These trousers are cutting off my circulation,” he growled. “I’ve suddenly remembered why I despise fancy dress.”

“I know. I feel as if I’m in a fabric sauna.”

“I can barely hear you here. Let’s move this someplace quieter.” His hand went to her lower back, and he guided her away from the crowd surrounding the refreshment table. When they were wedged in a dark corner, away from the melee, he glanced around the room. “This is more elaborate than I expected. The decorations are a nice touch.”

Hermione nodded. She knew he was trying to put her at ease. “Yes. I don’t think they were expecting this many people.”

He motioned at the crowd. “Are your friends spying on us from somewhere?”

She pointed them out. “The superhero and the butterfly woman.”

Snape raised his cup to the red-headed, caped avenger and her floaty companion. They both grinned and waved back. “Will we have a retinue all night, or will I get you alone at some point?”

Hermione downed the rest of her punch; her throat was parched. “I don’t know yet.”

Severus took her cup from her. “Would you like more?”

She shook her head. “Not just now, thank you. I don’t want to have to try and navigate the loo in this dress.”

Smirking, he set their cups on a passing tray. “They didn’t wear knickers in the eighteenth century . . . which made chamber pots easier to maneuver.”

“You’re starting to make the loo sound much more simple.”

He laughed. “Have you arrived _authentically attired_?”

Hermione’s face flared with heat. “Not to that degree.”

“Hmm,” he murmured, moving in closer, stroking the side of her soft cheek with one finger. “Perhaps we should submerge you in the historical experience.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. The rumble of his suggestion penetrated every layer of her clothing, targeting her clit.

“Would you care to dance?” he asked.

Hermione nodded, her face blank but her mind whirring and confused. Weren’t they just talking about costumes and punch? How did it become sexual so quickly?

“Then let’s take off your knickers and get out on the floor.”

Her eyes went wide. “Take off my knickers?”

Severus smirked and nodded. Turning his back to the crowd, he blocked the room from her view. “Are you going to be a good girl, or do I need to spank your naughty bottom here in front of everyone?”

Hermione was going to hyperventilate. She was terrified of both suggestions, but if her slit got any wetter she was going to leave a puddle on the floor. “I . . . I don’t know. I mean . . . no, I don’t want you to spank me in front of everyone.”

Severus could feel the heat radiating off her face. He just wanted to give her a taste, not make her pass out. Leaning in even closer, he saw her eyes go dark behind her gold mask. “No one’s watching us—except your friends. Do you want to do the honors . . . or shall I?”

Hermione knew she was breathing too hard; her chest visibly rose and fell as she processed his question. “I . . . you . . . I . . . You want to take off my knickers? Now?”

Snape nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact. “Turn your back to the room. We’re doing it right here.”

He guided her to switch places with him, the room spinning behind her in a blur. When he was in the corner, he gave her a small smile and knelt down. Every organ in her body started trembling. Glancing over her shoulder, Hermione didn’t see anyone staring at them. If someone did see, they might just think he was fixing her shoe or adjusting her stockings or something. His hands disappeared under the hem of her skirt, and his fingertips glided up the backs of her legs, tickling her behind the knee and then crossing over the final expanse of her hamstrings. He held her gaze the whole time, never blinking. His eyes were star-flecked black holes, and she was getting sucked into them.

Severus grazed the base of her bum, keeping a straight face as she jolted in his hands. Her voluminous skirts hid everything, but he didn’t need to see what he was doing. Her silky stockings had stopped at her thigh, leaving the lower half of her round bum delightfully bare. Trailing up to her hips, he found the top of her knickers and began to ease them down. Her breathing became labored, and his eyes flickered from her face to her precariously stacked bosom. If her neckline were any lower, he’d be able to see her areolae. And she was about to breathe herself out of her bodice.

Her gusset caught between her legs. Hermione's labia seemed unwilling to let it go. He smirked at her and pulled them free, easing them down to her ankles without ever really touching her again.

“Step out,” he murmured.

She did, watching with bated breath as he revealed his lacy prize.

Severus would have to be blind to not notice the transparent blot in the center of her knickers. “It’s a good thing I got you out of these, young lady. They’re drenched.”

Her face went crimson as he inspected her underwear. If she had known her knickers would be scrutinized, she would have worn a sexier pair. There was lace around the trim, but otherwise they were rather plain: simple white microfiber.

Severus stood and looped the material into the scabbard at his hip. It was unlikely to be identified by any casual observer, but she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. “Much better. Now let’s see if that frees up your feet.”

Hermione let him lead her out onto the dance floor. She felt as if she were having a dissociative episode. This couldn’t be real. You don’t meet a man one minute and then let him remove your knickers the next. His hand went to her waist while his other held her fingers loosely. She automatically rested her hand on his shoulder and stared at him in bewilderment as he smoothly swayed her in a small circle. He wasn’t pressed up against her; he was dancing with her as if they were on a normal first date, as if he didn’t have her wet knickers adorning his sword.

Severus watched her carefully as they danced. She looked lost. It was a bit much to spring on her all at once, but this _was_ why they were meeting. Either she liked his style or she didn’t.

Hermione tore her eyes from his and glanced to the side. Ginny and Luna were grinning at her from the crowd, giving her the thumbs up when she saw them. Her mouth twitched in an unsure smile. Did they not see her knickers dangling from his hip? How could they have missed him stripping her in the corner? Swallowing hard, she met his eyes again. He seemed totally calm and, unlike her, unruffled. What was a witch supposed to say after a wizard commandeers her knickers? The only reply she could come up with was “thank you.” But that didn’t seem quite right.

When the next song was too fast for his taste, Severus led her over to the doors that opened to the courtyard. The outdoors were lit with odd orange and violet lights that cast an eerie glow around the garden. Other guests were out, milling around, getting fresh air, talking. It was considerably quieter, and he hoped her fearful silence would be remedied by the ability to hear. Following the curving brick path, he steered her toward one corner where a stone bench offered a place to rest. “Please, sit.”

Hermione sat down with a grateful sigh. Her confidence in her own knees was waning. She’d been knocked for a loop and wanted to get her bearings back. He sat beside her, his sword clanking against the stone seat. Their contact was restricted to his leg touching hers through their multiple layers of clothing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

Hermione wasn’t sure. “A bit dazed.”

He nodded. “Have I met your expectations?”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple times before she spoke. “I had no expectations.”

“That’s wise. Is there anything you’d like to ask me? I know you must have questions.”

She couldn’t think straight. If she’d been smart, she would have made a list before leaving her flat. “How many witches have you done this with?”

He pinched his lip. “If you mean how many times have I been in a one-on-one dominant relationship with someone, I’d say seven or eight. If you mean how many times have I been in a dominant sexual situation with a witch, the answer is considerably higher. More than a hundred.”

She blinked. “You’ve slept with over a hundred witches?”

“No. I said sexual situation. There have been many times that I’ve been requested to punish or tease a witch with no intercourse involved. I would consider any instance where a witch was nude or wet a sexual situation.”

“Oh.” She had to process that. “In your letter you said you hadn’t done this in a while. When was the last time?”

“Roughly twenty years ago.”

“Why the long stretch?”

“Life got in the way. I didn’t have the time or desire for such games.”

Hermione nodded. “Are you going to start . . . offering your services again?”

Severus smirked. “I don’t think so. I don’t really have the time to 'service' more than one witch right now.”

“So it would just be you and me? Like we’re dating but . . . with bondage?”

He studied the way her fingers nervously picked at her fan. “Have you never had a lover?”

Hermione had to think about how to answer that. “Um . . . I’ve had a couple one night stands and boyfriends, but I wouldn’t call any of them a lover.”

Severus considered that. “What we would be doing would be more of an arrangement. We would both come to a mutual agreement about what we want from our meetings.”

“What do you want from all this? You already know what I want.”

Covering her hand with his so she would stop playing her fan, he answered her carefully, “Just as you want to be punished, I want to mete out that punishment. Whatever fantasies you have about being dominated, I have the mirror desire to dominate.”

“What about . . . the sex? How will that work?”

His lips twitched into an honest smile. “The normal mechanics.”

Hermione smiled too. “Yes, I assumed that. I meant, how do we go about it? Do I send you an owl saying I’d like a slippering and a fucking? Like I’m placing an order?”

The smile on his face felt unfamiliar, but not wrong. “No. We’ll set up meetings, and I’ll give you whatever punishment I think you need. If that leads naturally to orgasm or sex, then so be it.”

That sounded like a decent plan to her. “What if I suddenly need you to spank or shag me, but we don’t have a date set up?”

Severus pinched his lip again, pulling the grin off his face. “Then you send me an owl, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.

“When can we start?”

Severus laughed, not recognizing his own voice for a second. “Have I become a finalist in your search?”

“You’re in the lead.” She didn’t want to tell him the other possibilities had been forgotten after his second letter. If he knew there was no competition, he’d have her over a barrel.

“We can start tonight if you like.”

“ _Tonight_ tonight?” She was suddenly doubting herself.

“If you’d prefer more time to consider it, I understand.”

Despite her trembling nerves, Hermione was ready for him to start immediately. “What are you going to do to me?”

Her willingness was being smothered by her fear. Severus quickly made up his mind about how to proceed. “I’m going to dance with you.”

She was sure she’d misheard him. “Dance with me?”

He stood and held out his hand to her. “I lead. You follow. It’s simple. Take my hand.”

Hermione slipped her hand into his, and he helped her from the bench. Instead of taking her inside, he pulled her against him right there in the courtyard. The music was easily heard through the wall and open doors, and he rocked her in a slow circle to the beat. The song wasn’t really slow, but it wasn’t fast either. When that song concluded, the band started a soft ballad that was more suited for couples. Her dark pirate pulled her closer, pressing his lithe body against hers. It was hard to feel him through her dress, but from the tits up, she felt almost naked. His shirt was cool against her breast, but underneath it he was warm and hard.

When she relaxed and put her face against his chest, Severus smiled. She was new to this; he’d have to get her more comfortable before anything too intense took place. Keeping the sway of their dancing slow, he held her close, watching her body for signs of tension. The song melted into another tune that wasn’t too fast, and he continued their gentle, repetitive circle in the moonlight. Her arms went from mannequin stiff to pliable and living. He had no intention of stopping until that rigid pole in her back had been extracted. As the next song started, he felt her clench, but when he made no signs of letting her go, she sank in relief and sighed into his shirt. By the song’s bridge, her back was no longer constructed of steel cables.

The soft shuffle of their feet on the bricks could barely be heard over the jabbering guests and the loud music. Severus brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Your hands are like ice.”

Hermione was glad her blush was hidden by the night and his shirt. Her toes and fingers were always the first indicators of her level of anxiety. He obviously knew how frightened she was. “I’m scared out of my mind.”

“Perhaps we should postpone tonight’s activities.”

“NO!”

Severus smirked at her vehemence.

“I mean,” she said, regaining control of her voice, “there’s no sense in delaying anything. I’ll be nervous no matter when we do it.”

Despite her calm explanation, it was clear how desperate she was. “How long has it been since you were last with a man?” he asked quietly.

Turning her head to the side, glancing across the courtyard at a small group of laughing partygoers, Hermione tried to breathe normally. All that came out was a tight sigh. “It’s been a few years.”

“That seems like a lengthy dry spell for such a young and beautiful witch.”

Hermione smiled. Compliments like that usually made her roll her eyes, but she knew he was trying to put her at ease with the sweet words. She needed all the help she could get. “I’m too busy. Plus . . .” she paused, deciding whether she should say what she was thinking. “I’ve never really been with anyone experienced. I didn’t want to waste my time. I thought . . .” Her words fell away with a blush.

“What?” he asked, looking down at her.

Turning her face back into his chest, she decided hiding anything from him was pointless. He was there for the most lascivious reason imaginable, and embarrassment didn’t seem to be part of his makeup. And he didn’t even know who she was. What did she need to hide? “I thought it rather futile. If I’m going to spend the night getting myself off either way, I figured it would be easier if I just stayed home.”

Severus glanced down at her white wig, wondering not only how inexperienced she was but also what she would look like splayed out on a bed, her fingers exploring her juicy slit. He squashed the image immediately. There was no room in his trousers for that line of thinking. “I see. How many partners have you had?”

“Four.”

“None of them satisfied you?”

“Orgasm-wise, no. Don’t get me wrong, they were all extremely sweet; and one of them was quite fun. But any orgasms I had with them were my own doing.”

“Were they all young?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you said you were attracted to older wizards.”

“I am.”

“But you’ve never slept with one?”

“Not yet.”

His smirk returned. It seemed she was ready to explore that route with him—immediately. Pulling her closer, he put his lips above her ear. He needed to wow her tonight. This was a job interview, and he wanted the position even more than he’d thought. “I think it’s time you got over my knee, young lady. I want that bottom nice and red before I watch you cream my hand.”

Hermione missed a step, trodding on his toe as the words sank in. Blinking and swallowing were no longer priorities; her brain was too busy picturing that suggestion to be concerned with such frivolous bodily functions. “Where?”

Her willingness was a good sign. “Well, we _are_ in a hotel. I’m sure I can find us a suitable room somewhere. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. If you’re going to meet strangers for sexual purposes, safety should be your first concern. I think it would be best if you told your friends what you intend to do and ask them to wait for you.”

That did make her feel better. He wouldn’t tell her to involve her friends if he intended to harm her. He was doing everything he could to make it a positive experience. “Are . . . are we going to have sex?”

Severus took note of the tremor in her voice. She was terrified yet hungry for him at the same time. The game was afoot. He had to plan his strategy carefully. The first objective was to secure his foothold. If she chose him, he would have plenty of opportunities to bed her. She was going to choose whomever she felt safest with. “Not tonight. If you find our time together satisfactory, contact me and let me know. If you don’t, our identities will remain a mystery, and we can go our separate ways none the wiser.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Although still scared, she was no longer petrified.

“Come along. We both have to work tomorrow, and I want as much time with you as possible.”

He took her hand, and Hermione followed him back into the ballroom. She spotted Ginny and Luna near the punch and squeezed the pirate’s hand to let him know. He nodded and leaned down to her ear so she could hear him.

“Tell them I’ll have you back down here by one. I’m going to go talk to someone I know about finding a room. I’ll come back for you as soon as I can. Stay with your friends so I can find you.”

Hermione nodded.

He could see how pale she’d become behind her gold half-mask. Leaning down, he kissed her temple. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

He disappeared into the crowd before she could reply. Hermione made her way over to Ginny and Luna, replaying the evening in her head. He was an odd man, a strange mixture of dominance and kindness. It was unclear whether he was just doing that for her or if that was how he was naturally. His letters claimed he was less than sociable, but so far he’d done nothing that proved that. Was he just playing her? Was he going to wait until they were alone and then attack her? The sweet kiss he’d given her before parting had actually calmed her quite a bit. It wasn’t sexual. It didn’t seem likely that he would reassure her in such a manner if he planned to decapitate her upstairs.

“Have you been outside all this time?” Ginny asked, handing her a cup of punch.

The saccharine sweetness of the fruity liquid tasted like heaven on her parched tongue. She hadn’t noticed how dry her mouth had become. “Yes.”

Luna smiled. “What was he like?”

“Um . . .” she had to think about that. “He seemed nice.”

Ginny pulled her closer so they could hear. “Was he a good dancer?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, actually, he was.”

Ginny grinned. “You know what that means.”

The redhead’s lewd expression was partially hidden by her mask, but Hermione snickered at the visible smile. “That’s what I’m hoping. Listen, are you two going to be here awhile?”

Ginny shrugged at Luna. “Yeah. Why?”

“I . . . uh . . . I’m going somewhere with him, but I want you guys to be here to make sure I get back in one piece.”

If Ginny’s grin got any wider it was going to split her face. “Go somewhere with him? You bloody perv! I’m so proud of you.”

Hermione blushed but couldn’t keep a straight face. “We’re just going to get to know each other.”

Luna snorted into her punch.

Ginny shook her head, laughing. “I want a detailed report when you get back. I hear pirates can really _hoist the mizzenmast_.”

Hermione choked back a guffaw. “He said we’re not going to shag.”

Ginny gave her a disbelieving look. “Really? What are you going to do? Pet his parrot?”

“I . . . uh . . .” Hermione looked around, wishing there weren’t so many people about. “I’ll explain later.”

Luna sipped her punch. “He’s talking to a man over by the main doors.”

Looking over her shoulder, Hermione spotted him talking to a man dressed as Henry VIII. The man handed him something, and her pirate made some parting comments and then started toward the refreshment table.

“Here he comes,” Ginny whispered. “Find out if he’s keeping his peg leg in his trousers.”

Hermione’s heart suddenly revved to overdrive. This was really going to happen. She was going to go somewhere with a man she barely knew and let him do things to her she’d never let another man do. She set her cup on the table and pulled at her costume, trying to make more room for her lungs to expand.

Luna touched her arm. “You look scared.”

“I am.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Hermione let out a shaky laugh. “No thanks, Luna. I think this is something I have to do on my own.”

She turned to face him, and Ginny and Luna flanked her in a protective manner that gave her a boost of courage.

Luna leaned in to her. “Are the knickers on his belt the new pirate fashion?”

Hermione turned a deep shade of red.

Ginny squinted at him as he approached. “Hermione, are those _your_ knickers? What on earth did you do outside?”

Hermione whipped out her fan and tried to keep her face from bursting into flames. “Don’t say my name when he gets here. We’re staying anonymous for tonight.”

“Those _are_ your knickers,” Ginny stated with a growing smile.

Severus found his Marie in a tight wall of protective witch. The superhero had a smirk on her face, and the butterfly was studying him with a serene smile. He nodded at them both before holding out his hand to the frightened looking monarch in the middle. “Are you ready?”

His fingers felt warm around hers. She nodded.

“I’ll have her back here by one.”

Ginny gave him a warning look. “I know the entire Auror department extremely well. If anything goes wrong, they’ll hunt you down like a dog.”

Severus smiled softly. He appreciated a loyal (and threatening) friend. “That sounds fair.”

Ginny smiled. “Then I’ll see you later,” she said to Hermione. “Details,” she hissed in her ear before letting her go.

Luna tipped her head sideways, eyeing the dark pirate. “Yo ho ho.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure her out. “Yes. Nice meeting you both.”

Weaving through the dancing guests and roaming drunks, Severus got her out into the hotel’s sprawling entryway. She looked terrified, but she clung to his hand as if she were more afraid of being parted. He squeezed her bloodless hand and led her to the lifts. They rode to the fifth floor with two boisterous couples who barely noticed their presence. They stayed on till the seventh floor, where he led her out and down the hall. She was dead silent the whole way, and he could feel her hand shaking in his.

He used the charmed key on room 713 and let her enter first. She stayed by the door, watching nervously as he began unbuckling his belt. Severus took in the room. There was a low bed on the opposite wall and a writing desk with a chair to the right. The door to the bathroom stood open next to her frozen form. The walls were dark blue, which added an elegant, calming air to the room. It wasn’t a huge room, but it wasn’t bad.  

Setting his scabbard on the desk, he did his best not to laugh at her skittish posture. He went to the bed and sat on the edge, facing her. “I think you’ll be more comfortable if you take off your wig.”

Hermione raised one hand to her head as if she’d forgotten she was wearing it. “Okay.”

“Would you like help, or can you manage?”

She glanced at the bathroom door. “I can manage. I’ll, uh, just be a minute.”

Severus nodded and waited while she prepared herself.

Hermione ducked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a sigh. This was far more nerve-wracking than she’d thought. Pulling her wand from the hidden sheath in her bodice, she prodded her wig and caught it as it tumbled down. She set it on the counter and pulled the cap from her hair. It all looked smashed and insane. After smoothing it out a bit, she rolled it and piled it into a curly fountain atop her head then used her wand to pin it in place. It would fall out in a few hours, but she should be home by then. It actually didn’t look too bad. Sometimes she lucked out and her hair decided to do what she wanted it to.

Checking herself in the mirror, she nodded. It was now or never. Creeping back out into the bedroom, she stared at his boots, wondering how to proceed.

Severus blinked a few times, processing her change in appearance. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “You look even better as a brunette. Why on earth did you wear that wig?”

She smiled and shrugged. “It was part of the costume.”

“Are you ready for your spanking now?”

Hermione squirmed. She’d waited far too long for someone to say that. Now that she finally heard it, her stomach was jumping up and down in excitement. _I’m going to be sick_. “Yes, please.”

His lips twitched. The way she held her hands over her stomach was a clear sign she was trying to still her nerves. She inched toward the bed as if she were sneaking up on it. “Don’t be frightened,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. It’s your first time. I’ll take things slowly.”

Doing her best to swallow, Hermione nodded again. As she drew closer, she felt her insides quiver. “Whose room is this?” she asked quietly.

Severus stayed still, watching her approach with interest. He wondered how long she could delay her arrival. “A friend is staying the weekend here. He’ll be at the party until the early hours of the morning.”

“What if someone hears us?”

“That’s unlikely. The walls are thick, and we’re at the end of the hall. Besides," he said, smirking, "if any complaints are made, they won’t know it’s you. The room is in Edgar’s name.”

She was standing toe to toe with him. There was no more time for stalling.

Keeping his eyes on her face, he reached down and lifted her skirts to just below her knees. “I don’t want your dress to get caught when you bend over,” he explained. “Just lie across my lap and rest your head on the bed.”

He turned at a slight angle, and Hermione eased herself over his thighs. Just getting into position was terrifying. His body was warm against her left side. His crotch would be right against her hip. Was he turned on by this, or was this just routine for him? She couldn’t feel if he was hard or not through all their clothing. He must have seen hundreds of bare bums in his life; Hermione doubted hers was anything special. Maybe this was nothing to him. But it was everything to her. Everything. She’d had fantasies even back at Hogwarts. Acting out such a long held idea was both horrifying and arousing. If this didn’t go well, she’d be lost. Her recurring fantasies would vanish, and she’d have to seek out some new obsession.

Severus made sure the front of her skirts bunched over his knees so he could easily lift the back. As slowly as he could, he drew the voluminous layers up over her hips. The sight was glorious. Her white stockings stopped at her upper thighs, held in place by charmed garters. Tiny pink bows adorned the backs of the stretchy bands. _Sweet_. But not as sweet as the creamy globes of her buttocks, round and bare in the soft lamplight. They were like mounds of snow. He stared at them as he draped her skirts over her back. The shadow of her crevice teased him with unseen delights. Her legs stayed together, hiding her sex. Everything would be explored before he finished with her that night.

She jumped when he grazed his fingers along the strip of bare thigh above her stockings. Severus held in his chuckle and continued his journey. She was soft as satin. Running his fingertips up over the hill of her left cheek, he wandered over every inch. When he traced her crack before crossing to the other hemisphere, she jerked under his hand and made a soft, strangled sound. He smiled and continued his examination. Her derrière was lovely. So round. He let his fingers wander down to her right thigh and tickle at the edge of her stocking.

Severus slid toward her inner thigh, and she immediately opened her legs more, giving him a peek at her buried treasure. Stroking the soft inner flesh of her legs, he purred some praise at her willing exposure. “That’s it. Open wide for me.”

Hermione hid her face in her arm. She knew she was soaked already. Ever since he’d taken her knickers, she'd been on the verge of drenching her dress. And now that she was arse-up on his lap with his fingers drawing the most obscene alphabet over her backside, she was sure the entire hotel would be able to smell her.

Using the backs of his fingers, Snape brushed over the curve of her bum. If he had all night, he could probably pet her to orgasm. He’d keep that in mind for a future encounter. Smoothing his hand along the cool skin of her cheeks, he cupped her bum and gave it a good squeeze. She gasped and squirmed, displaying more of her dark slit. He caught a glimpse of her shining folds and smiled to himself. _Just a little longer._

Hermione moaned softly as his stroking became more of a massage. Both of his hands rubbed her bum, kneading her flesh with gentle pressure. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she arched her back to give him more to work with. His hands felt amazing.

Severus spread her cheeks apart, inspecting her brown whorl. If her breathing was any indication, she was loving it even more than he was. That was hard to believe. He was in heaven. Her little pucker was adorable. The tiny dark hairs adorning her pussy wandered back to that shadowed entrance, decorating the depths of her crevice with downy fur. He was going to stroke that soft valley later that night, but for the moment, he was content to just gaze on her hidden charms.

Slipping his hands lower, he held open her pussy. Her inner lips were red with engorgement; clear lubrication shone along every fold. She wasn’t just wet, she was glistening. The sight was magnificent. He hadn’t even spanked her yet. How the wizards she’d been with couldn’t get her to come was a mystery. She was beyond responsive. This was a presentation.

“Look how juicy you are,” he teased. “Are you ready for that spanking now?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered without hesitation.

Severus managed to stifle his laugh, but he smiled broadly at her enthusiastic “sir.” She’d practiced that before. “I have no intention of making this too intense, but for your own peace of mind, I want you to pick a safe word. If things get too rough, you say it, and I’ll stop immediately. However, if you say it, the evening will be over. Don’t just use it because you’re nervous. I have never had a witch use a safe word with me in my entire life.” He wouldn’t elaborate on why he was so adept at knowing others' limits.

She’d thought about it before. “Quaffle.”

“Quaffle? Are you a Quidditch fan?”

“Sort of. But it’s not something I’m likely to blurt out accidentally.”

He chuckled. “Excellent point. All right then, Quaffle it is. Now, before I spank a witch, she has to ask me for it nicely.” He stroked her bum as he spoke. “I want you to say, ‘Please spank my naughty bottom, sir.’”

Hermione smiled in embarrassment, glad he couldn’t see her face. “Please spank my naughty bottom, sir.”

He patted her right cheek, making it jiggle. “You’re doing very well tonight.”

The first four hits were just taps. Hermione relaxed and waited for them to get harder.

Severus let his pats grow to slaps. He watched her leg muscles for tension. He kept the pace slow, giving her ample time to process each hit. By the time he got to thirty, she was whimpering into the bed. He would only go a little harder, but not yet. Rubbing her pink skin, he let her rest for a bit. “How was that so far?”

Hermione nodded. “Good.”

“Your arse looks wonderful,” he purred, kneading her right cheek. “Would you like to try it harder?”

“Yes, sir.”

They were going to get on swimmingly. She already knew how to play the game without any prompting. “All right. Just ten or so harder ones; then I’ll give you a break.”

Hermione dug her fingers into the bed in preparation for the blow. His hand cracked against her backside, and the sting was intense, morphing immediately to a deep warmth. He kept it slow so she had time breathe and deal with the sensation after each hit. He stopped after ten and went back to rubbing her bum. Sighing in relief, she arched her back for more.

“Do you want to try it harder?” he asked. Her skin had a lovely heat to it, and the color was deepening to a nice crimson in some places.

“Yes, sir.”

Severus was surprised. That had seemed awfully intense for her. “You don’t have to do it for me. I’m honestly asking.”

She wiggled, hoping to make his hand accidentally touch her pussy. “I want to see if I can take it, sir.”

Her daring seemed incongruent with her earlier hesitation. “Just say stop if it’s too much.”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus gave her six good whacks. They were at what he would consider a serious punishment intensity. If he laid them on faster, she might be in tears. Crying wasn’t his goal that night though. This was just a test drive. He’d watch her for any indications of being overwhelmed.

She grimaced through each hit, hissing and grunting at the heat. The immediate pain was unbearable, but as soon as it died down, she was ready for more.

“Harder?” he asked with a smile.

Panting at the bed, she shook her head. “Maybe if you give me a minute.”

He was impressed. Her cheeks were dark pink now. There were a few spots where his fingers had left a small strawberry bruise. He rubbed her backside until her body went slack with abandon.

“Okay. I think I’m ready,” she said in a shaky voice.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned her. “I’ll only give you four. If you can’t take four, say so. This isn’t a requirement.”

She nodded and braced herself for impact.

Severus shook his head. She wasn’t going to enjoy this; he didn’t know why she was pushing herself so hard.

_Smack!_

“OW!” The pain was shocking. “Bloody hell!”

He waited several seconds and smacked the other cheek.

“OW! Okay, okay. Please stop. I can’t take it.”

He nodded. So she did know her limits. “All right. Just relax. Tell me when you’re ready, and we’ll explore speed rather than strength.”

Hermione dropped her face to the bed with a deep exhale. He kept gently stroking her, which was good since her bum was still screaming from those last two hits. When her breathing was back to normal and she wasn’t on the verge of crying, she reached back and felt her own backside. She’d spanked herself many times, so the warmth wasn’t a surprise; but the degree of the heat was. _Wonder what it looks like._ “What color is my skin?”

“It’s just beginning to turn from deep pink to red.”

She folded her hand back under her chin. “I’m honestly not fishing for compliment, but . . . do you think it looks good?”

The corner of his mouth curled into a half-smile. “Yes, I do. Your bum is delightful, and it looks even better red.”

“Thank you, sir. Okay. I’m ready for more.”

He swallowed his chuckle and patted her right cheek. “I’m going to start again, but I’m going to speed up the pace. Even though I’m not hitting you as hard, it will be more intense. You won’t be able to recover from the last blow before the next falls. If it gets to be too much, just ask me to stop.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered and dropped her forehead onto her hands.

Severus started with just a couple seconds between each slap. He let her get used to it then turned up the heat. He gave her a nice quick, steady spanking. Her cheeks bounced and shook with the impact, and she started to wiggle with discomfort.

There was a big difference between slow and fast when it came to pain. Before, it had been like a spark that flared and died. Now it was like a growing forest fire. The heat was building on itself, leaving her bum a smoldering lump of charcoal. She tried her best to be quiet, but after a minute of that throbbing burn, she was groaning and shouting through the heat.

Severus gave her one more notch on the pain scale, increasing the force back up to “real punishment.”

“This is what naughty girls get from me,” he said, pulling her tighter when she started to thrash. “If you misbehave with me, this is what you have to look forward to.”

Hermione shouted louder. No words, just noises. Just when she was about to call him off, he stopped and slid his fingers between her legs. Her eyes went wide, and she spread her thighs so he could reach. Her cries faded into shocked moans as he lightly traced her dripping slit with one finger.

“Would you look at all this,” he taunted. He suspected she trimmed her pubic hair; for a brunette, it didn’t seem very thick. It made it easy to feel that juicy goodness. He’d get a better look in just a bit. “Someone took her first spanking very well.”

Hermione’s face was just as hot as her backside. None of her previous partners had ever said anything remotely suggestive. The best she’d gotten was “I’m gonna come” seconds before they released in her mouth. Now she was in a hotel room with a stranger, and all he had to do was say “spanking,” and she was ready to knock him to the ground and unsheathe his sword. Becoming a wanton harlot was a much quicker transition than she'd previously thought.

“Look at this little clit,” he said with a hungry growl. “I think you’re ready to come.” He pulled his finger from her folds and licked it clean. She tasted of musky sex, and he wanted to bury his nose in her crotch. He shifted her around so she was straddling his left thigh and facing the headboard. “Go on,” he murmured, swatting playfully at her brick red bum. “Let’s see you dance.”

The pressure of his thigh against her clit was perfect. Her bum felt like a frying pan, but he wasn’t hitting her too hard. The mild sting and resulting warmth came with no pause for recovery; it made her rock against him, seeking her relief in the hard muscles of his thigh.

Severus watched her grind against him, smirking as she let out a shocked moan. She was going to blow any moment. He checked the clock on the desk. They still had another hour. He was going to make her come again after a short respite. He let his fingers slap a bit closer to her pussy.

“Ah!” The pleasure overtook her, spreading through her sex in time with her grinding. Her eyes closed, and she rocked into him until her muscles stuttered in exhaustion. When the feeling passed, she couldn’t stop moving her hips. Little shocks of residual orgasm fluttered between her legs as she came down.

Severus massaged her backside, smiling to himself as she caught her breath. “All right. I want you up and kneeling on the bed.”

She slowly climbed off his leg, and Severus gathered up her skirts around her waist as she moved into place. “Rest your chest against the bed . . . that’s it.” He turned sideways and took in the most delicious view of her pussy. “Legs a bit wider. I want to see everything.”

Hermione’s face was burning from embarrassment and her last orgasm. It felt as if she had a fever. He started to gently prod and push, lifting her cheeks and then spreading them.

“This looks excellent,” he told her. “Your bottom will still be red tomorrow. You took your spanking beautifully.”

Hermione smiled. It was nice to hear from a professional.

“Let’s check your pussy too.”

She moaned as he spread her open with his thumbs. She’d never been so on display before. Ron had eaten her pussy, but he’d never just opened her up and took a gander. She didn’t know how to feel about it. Part of her was embarrassed to be inspected so thoroughly, but another part of her was excited by his attention, flattered by his appraising gaze.

Severus was speechless. Her pussy was exquisite. Pink had bloomed to deep red, and her opening was a chalice of cream. He wanted to drink from her. The shine was brilliant, like cut crystal. He spread her wider and turned his head, getting a good look at her happy little clit. It had pulled back some, retreating in satisfaction; but he would bring it back out. The smell of her filled the air, the scent of arousal permeating the room. He leaned in closer and inhaled the fragrance.

Hermione’s face turned crimson. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear him and feel the whisper of breath like an air current through her folds. Was he sniffing her? The thought made her smile wobble to the edge of a giggle. He must have thought she smelled okay, because he stayed there and took another deep breath.

Bloody hell, he was going to have to unzip his trousers. This was just torture. He used the rest of his fingers to spread her cheeks. Her entire furrow was bared for his viewing pleasure, and he heard her shaky gasp of excitement.

“Look at this naughty bottom,” he muttered.

Hermione couldn’t keep still. She could swear her pussy was already preparing for another go.

“Is something the matter with you?” he teased.

“No, sir.”

“Are you incapable of remaining still?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Reach back here and hold yourself open for me. I need to see how wet you are.”

Hermione swallowed hard and reached back to assist. Her bum was sore, so she aimed for just below her cheeks as an anchor point.

Severus waited for her to get situated then he sank one finger into her creamy cunt. The heat was outstanding. He slid in with no resistance. Her wetness was almost supernatural. He pumped in and out of her for a minute, imagining his cock in its place. Fucking her would be phenomenal. He slid down and tickled her clit with his wet finger, grinning when she started to writhe. He kept at it, barely touching her, pulling away when she’d try to lean into him.

When she started to pant, he went back to her entrance, giving it a few more strokes to test her response. The clitoral play had restarted the waterworks. _How can she possibly be wetter?_ He curled his fingers around and found her g-spot, choking back a snicker when she shouted into the bed. He kept it slow, teasing her. She arched her back even further and pulled herself open wider. Those wizards she’d slept with must have been idiots. She was dying for it. He was barely doing anything to her.

He let his curling fingers get a little firmer and set up a nice rhythm. He still kept it slow. He didn’t want her to come yet. Waiting until she went tense with need, he removed his fingers and let her simmer on the edge. He went to her perineum next, teasing the short spacer of skin.

“Uh!”

Her hips rolled, and he almost burst out laughing. This was too easy. Alternating between her pussy and perineum, he worked her back up to a fever pitch.

Her fingers tightened, pulling herself wider. Severus couldn’t believe this witch was single. Pretty, hardworking, intelligent, desperate for someone to fill her. He was going to do whatever it took to make her pick him. Even if she turned out to have a lazy eye and half a nose under that mask, she was still the most worthy catch he’d encountered in decades. Physical beauty was fleeting. He needed someone who wanted what he had to give and had something give him in return.

He tickled her burgeoning clit with one finger while his other hand continued its perineal torment. “All you need do is say something. Just say please, and I can give you what you need.”

Hermione licked her lips and tried to slow her breathing. She forced her mouth to speak the word. A breathless “please” finally escaped her lips.

“Such a polite witch,” he purred.

His fingers slipped up her slick channel, giving her muscles something to clench against, something to fill that hungry hole.

“Unh!” Her thighs started to shake. If he put just a touch more pressure on her clit, she could come. “Please, sir,” she gasped.

As soon as he upped the speed on her straining nub, she shouted. He watched the show, rapt with fascination. Her entire body trembled as she climaxed; whether from exhaustion or ecstasy, he couldn’t tell.

As the contractions faded, Hermione let go of her bum. Her arms got caught up in her skirts, but she was too tired to pull herself free. “Thank you, sir.”

Severus smiled. She was more than ready to play his game. “You’re welcome.” He pulled his fingers free and sucked them clean. “I’ve had a lovely night, but I think we should get you ready to return to your friends.”

“Don’t you need to come?”

She couldn’t see him with her head still buried in the bed like an ostrich, but he nodded in pleasure. She did have an urge to please. And she wasn’t selfish. He didn’t know if he could have found a better witch if he’d made a formal request. “You can lie down now,” he said, petting her bum. “And I believe I’ll be just fine.” _Maybe a bit more creased than usual._ “I appreciate your concern.”

Hermione collapsed onto her side, facing him. “I’d really like to see your dick.” She didn’t know how else to say that. It seemed a bit rude, but he didn’t seem to have any boundaries.

“Are you saying that because you feel guilty about things being one-sided or because you want to see what I’m working with before committing to anything?”

Hermione hadn’t considered that. Mostly it was just curiosity. “Both.”

He sighed and thought for a few seconds then figured it might be just what he needed to push himself into first place. Unbuttoning the placket of his breeches, he let his cock fall free. He wasn’t rock hard, but he was still three quarters there. It should be enough to impress her.

Hermione stared at his dick, unable to find words to mark the occasion properly. She moved in closer, trying to turn in her flurry of skirts. “May I?” she asked, her hand itching to wrap around him.

He nodded. She reached out, and her fingers drew across his shaft, causing him to harden further. Her exploration was soft and reverent but not timid. She was no blushing virgin. He wondered how many times those wizards who couldn’t satisfy her in bed had asked her suck and stroke their cocks.

He was growing in her hand, swelling even larger than he first appeared. Hermione was becoming alarmed. The four guys she’d slept with before had all been of varying sizes. For the most part, she found them all equally pleasant. But this was a whole new game. She wasn’t a particularly spacious witch, and she was pretty sure he was going to push her past the point of critical mass. Of course she’d stretch; she always did. It just made her wonder if someone could strain their vagina. Did mediwitches know how to heal a cervical sprang? (Or possible fracture.) She couldn’t deny that she wanted to play with it though—suck on it (if it fit in her mouth). It was too interesting to just stare at.

Severus gritted his teeth as she pinched his foreskin. She started to stroke him, and his cock jumped to the call. He went from pliable to granite in less than a minute. And he certainly enjoyed what she was doing. One of her hands idly stroked him while the other circled the crown of his corona. It was maddening. His tip was already weeping.

“Push your trousers lower. I want to see your balls.”

He barely managed to swallow his laugh before it escaped. He wasn't dense enough to argue with that kind of order. Leaning on one hand, he lifted his hips and pushed down his clothes. He’d forgone underwear in light of the close confines of his costume, and now he was glad he only had one layer to maneuver.

“Your cock is beautiful,” she muttered.

“I’m getting too close,” he grunted through his teeth.

“I want you to come. I want to see it.”

He hadn’t had time to knock one off before he'd left Hogwarts that night. He was too pent up to last. If she wanted to see, she was going to get an eyeful.

Hermione watched his sac pull tight the closer he got. Except for his breathing, he stayed quiet. She wanted to hear him groaning and begging for it. Or at least grunt. How was she supposed to know if he enjoyed what she was doing if he didn’t make any sounds?

Severus was torn between stopping her and just sitting back and letting her finish. Coming so quickly could be considered a minus if she started comparing possible candidates. Normally he’d have better control, but the night had strayed into long forgotten territory. His body seemed to be well aware that he’d spent the evening with a witch over his knee (and apparently that could push him over the edge faster than hours of actual sex). He couldn’t remember if the same thing had happened when he was younger. Those memories had blurred into obscurity. “Stop. It’s going to get all over my clothes.”

 _No, it won’t._ Hermione leaned over him and covered the head of his cock with her mouth, ready to catch his release.

Snape’s hips almost jolted off the bed. The slick warmth of her tongue and lips shot him past his limit. His cock throbbed, and he growled as his balls contracted, pulsing out the pleasure with his seed.

Hermione swallowed his cream. _Not bad._ Semen wasn’t at the top of her favorite flavors list, but he certainly wasn’t as unpleasant as some she’d had. The musky taste of his cock was excellent though. Before he could get his wits about him, she buried her face in his sac, getting a sample. They were just as nice as his dick. Albeit a bit furry. She didn’t mind. That just made petting them more fun, and aesthetically, she preferred it.

Severus stared down at her in shock. She was just full of surprises. He let his hand rest on the back of her neck, urging her to come up for air. He had to clear his throat to level out his voice before he spoke. “Next time warn me before you do something like that.”

She smiled and gave his soft balls one last pat. “That was fun. I haven’t made anyone come in a long time.”

His own lips twitched at the lilting delight to her words. He tucked himself away and started to re-button his breeches. “We need to talk before I take you back to your friends.”

Hermione took his hand when he offered it and let him help her out of the bed. Her skirts were a mess, but he sat on the edge of the bed and calmly started to straighten them as he spoke.

“First I’d like to say that while I greatly appreciate what you just did, it was unnecessary. You are not obligated to provide me with orgasm. I have been in numerous situations where I brought a witch to climax without finishing myself. I am no longer a tempestuous man of 25 who needs to empty his balls at every occasion.”

Hermione laughed at his description even though he appeared quite serious. “I fancied it.”

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. That boded well for him. “Next, I want to make sure you understand that if we continue to meet, things will be different than they were tonight. I did this solely so you could experience a spanking with little stress involved. This was a simple chance for us to get to know one another. If I were really punishing you, your cries for leniency would go unheeded. Your climax would be at my discretion. You would call me sir at all times, and there would be consequences for failure to do so. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“Yes, sir.” She smiled as he turned her and untangled the under layers of her costume.

He smirked at her answer. She’d picked up on that hint quickly. “I want you to think about what we did tonight. Your backside will be sore for a bit. I want you to consider that while you’re at work tomorrow. If we start seeing one another, you could be sore for days at a time. Think carefully about whether you’re ready for that. When you come to a conclusion, owl me and we’ll work out what to do next. If you decide you don’t wish to pursue this, that’s perfectly fine—turn again—just let me know. If there is something you need that I cannot provide you, I can introduce you to someone who might fit you better. No hard feelings.”

That was pure poppycock. He would bend to fit her mould. He didn’t want to let this go.

“I’ll write you when I get home from work tomorrow,” she said, holding up part of her skirt so he could see what he was doing behind her.

“Take as much time as you need.”

“When can we meet again?”

“I want you to think about this first. If you decide I’m what you’re looking for, we can set something up later.”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t you go fix your hair while I straighten up out here,” he said, smoothing down her skirt.

Hermione nodded and turned to him. “Thank you.”

“Skirts aren’t too complicated,” he said, waving her off.

“I meant for the whole evening. The spanking. The orgasms. Everything. This might be the best night of my life.”

She was certainly an honest witch. He nodded. He didn’t want to read too much into her words. She might praise him now, but she could change her mind or meet someone else in the next couple of days. “I’m glad. Let’s give it a chance to sink in for a bit first. You might feel differently in the morning. Go on,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom. “I don’t want you to be late.”

Hermione smiled and started for the loo.

“By the way, your nipple is showing.”

She stopped and looked down at her cleavage. Her entire right nipple had migrated above her neckline. Pulling at her bodice, she shifted around until it was hidden again. She’d never even seen his eyes wander that low. “Thanks.”

She went in the bathroom and closed the door.

Severus rose and straightened the bed. The room reeked of sex. He wouldn’t air it out. Edgar and his wife would get a kick out it. Fastening his belt at his hip, he pulled her knickers from the scabbard and shook them out. He’d return them before they parted ways.

She came out after about five minutes; her hair was straightened, but her wig was under her arm.

“Forgoing the full effect?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s too hot.”

“Come over here,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed again. “Your knickers are dry now.”

 _Not for long._ Hermione smiled and steadied herself on his shoulder as he held out her knickers for her to step into. What they’d done in the ballroom was happening in reverse. He slowly slid her knickers back up her legs and smoothed them into place. She thanked him softly, and he smirked at her as he pressed her gusset into her folds. With one hand at the front and one at the back, he pulled them up higher so the pressure on her clit was breathtaking. They rose against her perineum, reminding her how he’d touched her earlier.

“Leave those just like that until you get home.”

Hermione gave him an embarrassed nod of agreement.

Severus took her hand. “All right. We’re ready. Let’s go find your ladies-in-waiting.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Ginny and Luna had their eyes glued to the main doors. The party was still in full swing.

“There she is,” Ginny said, pointing.

“He shagged her wig off,” Luna observed.

Ginny snorted. “I definitely want to hear about that.”

The pirate led Hermione back to them and whispered something in her ear that made Hermione blush. Ginny was about to burst with curiosity. “There you are. Are you all right?”

Hermione couldn’t stop smiling. She nodded and looked away so everyone wouldn’t see how red she was getting. “I’m wonderful.”

The pirate lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I look forward to your owl.”

He was gone just as quickly as he’d arrived. Hermione stared after his disappearing black silhouette. Her skin was still warm where he’d touched his lips to her knuckles.

“Well?” Ginny said impatiently. “We’re dying here, Hermione. What happened? What did he do to you? Was it good? Are you seeing him again? Tell us!”

Hermione tried to bite the smile from her lips, but it remained. “We played a game of show and touch. He showed me his sword.”

Ginny grinned and got her a cup of punch. “How was it?”

That was impossible to put into words, but she did her best. “Woof.”


	2. Deliver De Letter, the Sooner De Better

Dear Sir60,

I know you told me to consider things for a couple days, but I don’t think that will be necessary. All day I’ve done nothing but relive what you did to me. I was so wet I had to wring out my knickers when I came home. This is unbearable. And, as my list of pros and cons is severely lopsided since I can’t think of any cons, I’m going to have to say definitively that I want to see you again.

Can we meet this weekend? I have a big meeting on Friday I have to get ready for, or I’d ask you to see me right now.

I don’t know what you do for a living, but you should wear that pirate costume all the time. I’ve had 50 swashbuckling fantasies since breakfast. I’m about to go to my room and have another right now. My bum is still pink from last night, but it’s starting to fade. I can’t stop checking it. Next time, you can take me to the captain’s cabin and show me what happens to naughty captives. I’ve never been pirate booty before.

Just in case I didn’t make it clear last night, you have the most gorgeous dick I’ve ever seen. And it tastes even better than it looks. You’ll let me have a second helping when I see you, won’t you? I can’t wait to get my hands on you again. But I want the whole package this time. Pirate costumes are exciting, but I want you naked. 

Thinking of you,  
  
BookGirl79  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear BookGirl,

It sounds as though I’ve made the cut. I look forward to blistering your backside on a regular basis. I’m glad you enjoyed what we did. I’ve never spanked royalty before, so it was noteworthy for me as well. More than once today, I’ve found myself staring off into space remembering how lovely you looked draped over my knee. Your bottom is even more magnificent when it’s glowing red. And your sweet little cunny—I’ve seen diamonds with less shine. I’m surprised you didn’t leave a trail of juice in your wake. I’ll have to bring a wet suit next time I see you.

I can meet you this weekend. Saturday or Sunday are both open for me. Whichever you choose is fine. I can’t get away until about 5:30 on Saturday though. Is there any particular reason you’d like to be spanked this time? Any bad habits you’d like to break? We can work on anything you’d like.

I know the spanking is what’s most important to you, so I’ll promise you right now that your bottom is going to be sore and red when I’m finished with you. You’re going to spend a lengthy time over my knee, and you’re going to love it. You haven’t experienced a clear conscience until you’ve been baptized by fire. You’re going to feel better than you have in years.

When we’re done, we’ll see how you feel. If you’re still eager to test out my wand, I’ll let you play to your heart’s content. But I intend to taste that pussy first. All my meals have been sadly bland compared to that honey dripping from your center. I’ll sate my appetite after I bake that beautiful bum to perfection.

I know you're eager to have sex this weekend, but I want to make it clear that this punishment you’re asking for is going to be intense. Emotionally and physically. You are going to cry. And you are going to be frightened. I know you have issues with “scary,” and I promise I will do nothing to overwhelm you; but you need to understand that giving up control to another person can be unsettling, especially for someone so used to being in charge. You got a taste of that at the hotel, but that was just for fun. You weren’t being corrected for anything, and I was purposely taking things slow with you. It’s going to be far more intense when we see each other this weekend. I think we should play things by ear when it comes to any sexual situations. You might not be up for a shagging after everything else. I’m not trying to make you nervous by saying all this. I just want to be honest. While I do want to get to know your pussy in as many ways as possible, I want to make sure you understand that things will only get as sexual as you want them to. If you feel worn out after the spanking, I completely understand. We have all the time in the world. There’s no rush.

I think we should meet somewhere neutral this time. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable having a stranger in your house (or knowing where you live). And I don’t think you want to come to my place; there are too many people here. Why don’t we meet at The Leaky Cauldron? Or did you have other ideas?

Let me know,  
  
Sir60  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Sir60,

The Leaky Cauldron sounds fine. You’d better book a corner room so we don’t disturb the other guests. How about meeting Saturday and Sunday? I’m sure we could think of something to fill the time. 

I appreciate your warnings about how intense this is going to be, and I suppose you’re right about playing it by ear. I do need to be shagged, but I need to be spanked even more. I know this will be serious, but are you going to take care of me when it’s over? I meant it about needing you to hug me. I know that might take away from your role as authority figure, especially in a punishment situation; but part of the reason I want this is so I don’t feel so alone. The way you kissed my forehead at the ball was so bloody sweet. That’s exactly what I want (and need). You’re not going to stop doing that just because we’re not playing, are you?

I don’t know if there’s any reason I deserve to be punished. I don’t really do anything bad (except maybe work too hard), but there are loads of things that I don’t like about myself. I also feel extremely guilty about many things in my past. It’s complicated to explain. But I can’t stop blaming myself no matter how logically I look at it. In my head I know those things weren’t my fault, but my heart tells a different story. I don't like to dwell on it; it takes a good deal of effort to keep it from eating me alive. You can punish me for any reason you like. I'm sure you've already analyzed me well enough to know my darkest secrets better than I do. I'll leave it to you to decide.

Could you give me a taste of what you're planning this weekend? I need something to tide me over and keep my mind from worrying about my meeting. I'd much rather think about my favorite pirate. 

Can't wait till this weekend,  
  
BookGirl79  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear BookGirl,

You made it very clear from the beginning that you needed the affection as much as the discipline. If I was incapable of providing something you needed, I wouldn’t have suggested we meet. Being “sweet” is not my usual modus operandi, but I am willing to branch out to accommodate you. I didn’t find it difficult or unpleasant holding your hand or kissing your brow at the hotel, so perhaps I don’t know my own strengths. I won’t lie to you, I’ve never been that affectionate with another witch. It is a stretch for me, but perhaps it’s time I tested out some new options.

Guilt is an old friend of mine as well. It follows one like a shadow, darkening even the brightest days. Sometimes for life. From your age, I'm going to guess that you were somehow affected by the final battle. Was survival your crime? It was mine. But my misery actually was my fault. Perhaps you will one day find the absolution that has eluded me.

I don’t know if you need to be punished for working too hard. If it keeps you sane, maybe it’s the best thing for you right now. I would only feel comfortable correcting you if your obsessive work habits were interfering with your health. Dedication isn’t something I discourage in any person, acquaintance or lover. But I’m certain we can find a suitable reason to turn you over my knee. 

I honestly don’t know what I plan to do to you. It’s not something I think about ahead of time. I’ll know better what you need when I see you. But if you need an assignment to hold you over, I can oblige. 

Do you remember the way I left you when we parted? I want you strip down to your knickers and then pull them up hard just as I did. Make sure you can feel it stem to stern. Leave them like that and touch your nipples until you’re nice and juicy. When your gusset is wet and you can feel it overflowing, you can rub your little pussy. But no adjusting your knickers. Touch yourself through them. I want those panties soaked. Climax as much as you please. When you’re done, take them off and tell me how they smell. If you’re a brave witch, you’ll tell me how they taste too.

I think we'd better restrict ourselves to just one day of fun this first time. An entire weekend of spanking and fucking might be a bit much for either of us to jump into.

Corner room booked,  
  
Sir60  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Sir60,

I just finished my assignment. I wanted to write you while it was fresh in my mind. I’m naked in bed right now with my knickers drying next to me. They smell good. I’ve never really sniffed my own knickers before (except to make sure they’re clean), but now they reek of pussy. I don't really have anything to compare it to, but I’d say it smells sweetly musky. 

As for the taste, I’m going to go with cotton. Yep. Definitely like licking cotton . . . with a hint of salt. However, I have the benefit of unlimited access to the supply line. I can get a better sample. On my fingers, I taste like musky, sweetened chicken. Or scallops. It’s good. And slippery. I’ll leave the final verdict to your more discerning palate.

Okay, I went and took a shower, and now I can think clearly enough to write. 

I know hugging isn't every dom’s cup of tea, so I appreciate your willingness to break character. If it’s something you’re not used to, I’ll try to keep that in mind. I don’t want to overload you the first day. 

I am truly touched by your honesty about the war and what it’s done to you. Survival is my penance too. I don’t like to talk about it with my friends. They have their own losses, and I feel bad reminding them of that. I’d do anything I could to lessen their pain and help them forget. 

But I can’t forget. It’s part of the reason I work so much; it occupies my thoughts and keeps my brain from being too morbid. The nightmares have become less frequent, but when I can’t sleep, I think about everyone who died. I rarely burst into tears for no reason anymore. (That tended to keep men at a distance.) But sometimes, I'm so numb I can't feel anything. That might be another reason I like the spanking. It gives me something to feel other than nothing or horror.

I won't ramble on about it anymore, but I'm glad you understand and won't think I'm a complete nutter if I can't stop crying. I am so ready for this week to be over. Preparing for this meeting is eating a hole in my gut. I can't wait to see you and forget about all this for a while. I think I’ll pick Saturday for our get together. 

The sooner the better,  
  
BookGirl79  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear BookGirl,

I do understand. Battle is traumatizing. It scars us all. Sometimes those wounds are visible but often they're not. Have you ever seen anyone to talk to professionally? The crying and numbness could be signs of deeper issues. If you ever feel as though you're regressing while you’re with me, just tell me. Most witches I've met find spanking therapeutic, but being powerless might bring up some skeletons you thought were long buried. I want to help you, not cause you to relapse. This arrangement is about control, but it's also about me taking care of you. A good dominant isn't out to destroy his submissive; he should be building her into a stronger witch, making sure she has what she needs to succeed. You will never trust a man who doesn't have your best interests at heart. And you shouldn't.

How is your health other than what you've mentioned? Are you sleeping well? Do you have stomach problems or headaches? Any injuries I should know about? What about birth control? Are you taking something or using barrier charms? (I don't need any “little me's" running around in the world.) If you want an anti-fertilization potion or an implantation blocker, I can brew you anything you'd like.

What about your job? You seem to find it rather stressful. Is it affecting your well-being? I don't think you're the kind of witch who would take a job she hated and then worry about it, so I can only assume that you are anxious because your work means a great deal to you. Do you mind me asking what you do?

Wait . . . I think I can guess. My brain could use the stretch. Let's see. Going by what I've surmised thus far, I'm going to venture that you have a job where you help people. You're not a mediwitch, but you do something where you care about others. Something tense and mentally involved . . . with meetings. You seem to find comfort in order, so I’m going to say either a private law firm or a Ministry job in either international co-operation or law. I’m leaning toward law. You like order too much for me to go in another direction. Now that I think about it, the Ministry is a better guess. You didn't use any legal jargon when we met, so you're not arguing before the Wizengamot on a regular basis.

Tell me more about your life. I’m curious what else we share besides guilt and a love of discipline. You seem to be intelligent, and with your work ethic, I assume you did well in school. I like a witch with a brain (brains are sorely lacking in my line of work). And I take it by your handle that you enjoy reading. I look forward to meeting the witch behind the mask. 

This weekend cannot come soon enough,  
  
Sir60  
  
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Dear Sir60,

I’m extremely glad that I chose you over the other respondents. I don’t think anyone else has ever put words to how I feel as well as you have. It seems I know you a little better with each letter. I don’t know what you’ve been through that would have ever led you label yourself anti-social, but I find you both understanding and insightful. And sexy. When we met, you were courteous and kind. You were a gentleman (even when you were nicking my knickers and smacking my bum). Even though you took charge, you did so in a way that wasn’t demeaning. I found you strangely calming and exciting at the same time. You’re obviously a talented lover, but the way you made me feel was far more important to me. I may have been scared about what we were doing, but I wasn’t scared of you. You put me at ease. I think I need that in my life.

I am counting the hours until we meet again. By the way, what time are we meeting on Saturday? I have the whole day free, so I’m sure I’ll get there before you. I’ll be the one reading in the back near the fire.

In answer to your questions about my health, yes, I am seeing someone about my problems. She had her hands full when I showed up in that office. Things were really bad for a while, but after about a year, I started to improve. We slowly tapered down my visits, and now I only see her twice a year (or more if something’s bothering me). Otherwise, my health is fine. I used to have stomach problems and headaches, but they’ve faded over the years. I don’t sleep perfectly, but that’s mostly because I stay up late working on reports before bed. 

I do take an anti-fertilization potion every month, but I prefer making it myself. It's one of the few things I get to brew anymore. Thank you for the offer though. I don’t need any “little me's" running about either. I am not ready for kids.

And you were wrong for once, I don’t work in any law department at the Ministry. I work in the Creature Rights and Cooperation Department. We do often deal with legal cases, but we are not part of the Justice Department or the Wizengamot. I do love my job. I don’t just work late because I’m obsessive. I do it because I believe in the equality of all magical species. Someone needs to stand up for them. Nothing could be more important to me. It is stressful though. And I’m scared to take breaks for fear that something catastrophic will happen while I’m gone. It terrifies me. 

I don’t know what all I should tell you about myself. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and wind up with you having some preconceived idea of what I’m really like. But I’ll give it a shot.

I like to read. I have an ancient cat, who I’m pretty sure only stays alive so I won’t be alone. Both of my parents are Muggles. I’m a godmother to a three-year-old boy who can’t pronounce my name. I was first in my class at school. I went to university, and I have a degree in Sociology and Public Administration/Social Service. I have a scar on my arm which I keep hidden with a glamour at all times. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be either a librarian or a teacher. (Although when I was two, I wanted to be a chimpanzee for about a week.)  My cat and I live in a tiny flat in London. I can clean said flat in less than two hours by hand and two minutes by magic. My flat is immaculate. You could eat off the bathroom floor. I only own five pairs of shoes. I might own over 1000 books. I’ve been to France, Greece, Spain, Italy, Bulgaria, Egypt, America, Canada, Australia, Brazil, and Sweden. I’ve been to every Quidditch World Cup since 2000, but I’m a terrible flyer. I speak passable Mermish and Goblin. I have dinner with the Minister of Magic once a month. I hate raw seafood. My favorite color is blue. I know how to drive a car. I masturbate every day. My favorite flavor of ice cream is mint chocolate chip. I like ballet and opera. I love Shakespeare. I’m a feminist. My two best friends are male. I’ve ridden a dragon. I own 52 pairs of knickers. Coffee makes me nervous. The only alcoholic beverage I can stand is champagne. My favorite subject in school was Ancient Runes. I hate cherries on sundaes but like them in pies. I love kids, but I don’t think I want to have any. I like thunderstorms. I also like the beach.

I hope that was enough for you to work up a comprehensive psychological profile on me. I don’t want there to be any unpleasant surprises when we meet. Will you tell me about yourself as well? I understand if you don’t want to reveal quite so much, but I would like to know more about you too.

And I have to ask you something. Does this mean anything to you? I mean, you’ve spanked over a hundred witches. Am I just another bum over your lap or a wet pussy? I hope that didn't sound accusatory; I’m really just curious. I have no idea what this is like from your perspective.

See you tomorrow,  
  
BookGirl79  
  
__ __ __ __ __ __ __

Dear BookGirl,

Just when I start to think I’m figuring you out, you come up with something that leaves me back at square one. I am surprised by the number of things we have in common. I didn’t see that coming. I was hoping to fit well with you in a sexual way, but it seems we share more than just punishment fantasies. I’ll see you in about twelve hours, so I guess we’ll be able to explore all this in person soon.

I’m glad you are seeing someone professional about the war, and I’m relieved that you are so much improved. I know it’s hard to face your past. And sometimes it’s even harder to ask for help. Your bravery puts mine to shame.

I’m in favor of doing something you’re passionate about. So if your work is what inspires you, then I don’t think it’s harming you. Passion can be stressful. I don’t know if it’s healthy for you to work so hard without time off, but I think you should do what fulfills you. Perhaps our meetings will be the break you need.

And you can nit-pick words all you like. I guessed your line of work pretty damn accurately. I expect a handsome reward when I see you.

I’m still re-reading your biography/confession. I can’t hold a candle to your candor, but I can volley the serve.

I, too, am a voracious reader (a commonality that is important to me). I’ve never thought to count number of books I own, but I suspect it’s over 1000 as well. I have never had a pet in my entire life, but I don’t dislike animals. I’m fond of cats. They’re independent for the most part and look as if they’re silently judging the world and finding it lacking. I can relate. Only one of my parents was Muggle: my father. Although I use that term in title only. He was barely human. Both of my parents have passed away, but I mourned only one. I also have a godson, although he has no problem pronouncing my name, and he’s 26. After I got out of school, I apprenticed with a Potions master. When I was little, my only ambition was to be powerful enough to destroy my father. An aneurysm did the job for me. I live alone in a small flat in Cokeworth. I have no idea how long it would take me to clean it all at once. I always do it one room at a time. It is clean though. I believe I own more shoes than you (although some are boots). I also have a glamour-obscured scar on my arm. I’ve never been outside of Great Britain and have little desire to travel. I have never been to the QWC, but I do like Quidditch, and I am a good flyer. I also know the Minister, but I don't eat with him regularly. Except for oysters, I am not a fan of raw seafood either. My favorite color is black. I haven’t driven a car in years. I only masturbate when necessary (though the frequency has increased since Halloween). I don’t believe I have a favorite flavor of ice cream. The sensual pleasure of food could never be reduced to a favorite for me. I like opera. I’ve never been to the ballet. Who doesn’t like Shakespeare? I’ve never really thought of myself as a feminist. I’ve never fought for witches’ equality, but I certainly don’t harbor any misogynistic ideals. In my experience, powerful witches outnumber the wizards. My desire for control has nothing to do with degrading females. I’ve acted as master to several wizards as well. Except for body parts, there’s not much difference. I only have one friend (male). I have never ridden a dragon (but I am intrigued). I own zero pairs of knickers but maybe 20 pairs of boxers. Recently, I branched out to boxer-briefs. I can’t decide if I fancy them or not. Coffee is my morning savior. Without it the body count would become troublesome. Champagne is a good choice. I also enjoy wine. My favorite subject in school was Defense Against the Dark Arts. I have no feelings about cherries whatsoever. Children are the bane of my existence. I also like thunderstorms, and I like the beach so long as it’s quiet.

Surprisingly, your last question was the most revealing part of your letter. My answer is both easy and complicated. Yes, this does mean something to me—for reasons I understand and some I don’t. I answered your ad hoping to reconnect to a part of myself that I’d let fall dormant. But it wasn’t just the spanking, it was life in general. Everything had become rote. For too long I’ve hidden from life. I think I wanted to know if I could be human again. I don’t know if I’m any closer to an answer, but I’m enjoying the journey. I don’t get to say that too often.

So rest assured that this means a great deal to me. I need to know who I am now, who I’ve become. I am no longer the man I used to be. I’ve changed. My tastes have changed; my temperament has changed. I'd like to experience life from this new vantage point. Beyond that, my motives are a mystery, even to me. I need this as much as you do, and perhaps for reasons not so dissimilar.

And no, you are not just another bum over my lap or a wet pussy. I have never viewed any of the witches I’ve been in a dominant relationship with as just another warm body. I knew each of them intimately. I had to; that was my job. They weren’t just objects there for my entertainment. I never thought less of any of them because of what they needed or what they asked me to do. It didn’t dehumanize them in my eyes. It made them easier to understand. They were the mirror of my own desires.

I took no offense at your question; I know why this is important to you. You’re asking me to become a major player in your life. You’re entrusting me with your darkest thoughts and fantasies. Most people avoid such embarrassing and painful situations, but you’re inviting me to do something that will not only cause you physical pain but will leave you vulnerable in ways that most people can’t imagine. Please don’t ever think that I’ve forgotten that. 

That you want to balance that exposure with intimacy and affection is understandable. I’m impressed you are so honest with both me and yourself. As long as you always tell me what you need, I’ll do my best to provide it. In a relationship like this, hiding your true feelings is both dangerous and counterproductive. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need. I think we’ll get along together very well. I find your honesty refreshing. I don’t feel as if there is some hidden plot you’re waiting to spring on me. That’s a relief. I’m too old to be playing games (and I suspect you’re too busy).

I’ll be at The Leaky Cauldron at 6:00. The room is paid up until the next day. We have as much time as you’d like. I’ll find you when I get there. I’ll be wearing black (non-pirate this time). I’m sure I’ll be able to spot you even without your wig (or precarious cleavage). I want you to wear your favorite pair of knickers for me. Wear them all day. I want you thinking about who's going to take them off and just how red your naughty little bottom is going to be when I'm through with you. And don't wear any kind of scent. The only fragrance I want to smell is the aroma of your need soaking those panties. Most pirates sail under a skull and cross bones, but I think creamy knickers would be a more appropriate banner in this situation, don't you? 

Until tomorrow evening,  
  
Sir60


	3. Hello, is it Me You’re Looking For?

Severus removed the wards from his fireplace and took a final deep breath, preparing for departure. He'd showered, shaved, and plucked himself to a picture of pristine presentation. Now he was wearing his best black shirt and trousers, ready to heave himself into the spotlight of exposure. He felt like a bloody teenager getting ready for a date.

On Halloween he'd had the protection of his mask and costume, but now he was armed with only himself. Would that be enough for her? They'd built a rapport, and hopefully he had revealed just enough about himself that she would be able to overlook his physical appearance and see him as a man who had a lot to offer despite his many faults.

Before he could convince himself that he had the all the good looks of a leprous mountain troll, he tossed the powder into the flames and called out his destination.

He was deposited at The Leaky Cauldron's main Floo, and he ducked down and crossed the hearth, scanning the murmuring patrons for any nosy witnesses. Tom was still working behind the bar, but he’d sold the inn to Susan Bones, who was bustling about cleaning the empty tables. She stopped short when she saw him emerging from the flames; her face registered surprise, but she quickly replaced it with a practiced proprietor's smile, welcoming him to the establishment with a friendly nod. He nodded back. The Bones girl wasn’t any great student, but she had a better head for business than Tom.

It wasn't very crowded. Especially for a Saturday. Everyone must have already gone home for dinner. Slinking around the tables, he rounded the corner, half-expecting to find no one there. He'd been stood up before. From the shadows he spotted her sitting at the last little table near the fire, reading a book. Just as promised.

He approached her silently. He didn't mean to sneak, but spying was a hard habit to break. Her hair was down this time, falling over her shoulders instead of springing from the top of her head like a riotous fountain as it had on Halloween. Chocolate curls spilled down her back, glinting with gold threads in the flickering firelight. There was something familiar about that hair. He dismissed his intuition as mere fancy. He _had_ just seen her a week ago. Of course she looked familiar. His brain jumped to imagining his face buried in those chestnut waves as he pounded her like a sledgehammer. _Not yet!_ He mentally slapped himself. _Don't get ahead of yourself. You're here to help her . . . and taste that pussy. Focus._

He stopped next to her table. Her face was hidden by a wall of hair. "Book Girl?"

Hermione looked up at the sound of his voice, smiling. Their eyes met and they both froze. She knew her mouth was hanging open like a concussed carp, but she couldn't close it. The sexy pirate who had danced with her at Earlgrave’s Hotel had been Snape? Her face went red as she replayed the night’s highlights with him behind the mask.

Severus saw the horror dawning over her features, zapping every last trace of hope he had. If only he'd used Legilimency on her at the hotel. He would have discovered her identity immediately and avoided such an awkward situation. He cringed at how much he'd revealed to her. Confessing his private thoughts to a stranger had been risky, but he'd so desperately wanted a connection with someone who understood him. And she had seemed right for the job. She was open and honest in a way that put him at ease. There was no pretense to sift through. She'd seemed like a witch he could really talk to. But now . . . he'd overplayed his hand. He could think of only a few people who could have left him so stunned. From her age he'd been prepared for her to be an ex-student, but not _this_ ex-student. He couldn't carve out a new identity with her. She was ingrained in his past. 

"I believe introductions won't be necessary," he said coolly, his lips barely moving. "This has been a mistake."

He started to leave, and Hermione’s hand darted out and caught his wrist. "No, wait!"

Snape glanced down at his snared arm. She looked embarrassed and released him.

"Please don't go," she said more quietly.

He sighed in resignation and turned back, taking the seat across from her. He owed her a few words. Severus felt like a five-year-old who'd been told no Christmas was coming. Everything he'd been looking forward to had just been ripped from his grasp. He should have known something like this would happen. When did anything ever work out well for him?

Hermione wasn't ready to just watch him walk away. She needed this. "I . . . I had no idea it was you."

He raised one eyebrow. "Obviously."

She could tell by his reaction that he was just as shocked to discover it was her. "I don't know what to say."

"Then you should say nothing. I should go before we do anything else we'll regret."

"I don't regret anything," she said honestly.

He stared at her, searching her eyes for lies.

Hermione gulped. His gaze pierced her like a laser. _Blimey_. She'd forgotten how intense he could be. "Do _you_ regret what we did?"

Snape sighed. "I regret the time I have spent on something that can go no further."

Hermione bit her lip. It didn't sound as though he was even considering it. "You don't want to see me anymore?"

Was she completely mad? "We know too much about each other, Miss Granger. It's not a question of want, it's a matter of reality."

“It felt real to me."

His scowl softened. "This would end badly."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Yes. I can. I am not what you want, Miss Granger. Go back home and pick another wizard from your many suitors."

She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. "There was no antagonism between us on Halloween. Why can't we continue what we started?"

Was she serious? "Because our relationship is one of teacher and student."

Her lips twitched, her brain bombarding her with images of him “instructing” her. "That was the best lesson I've ever had."

His brow quirked but his face remained stoic. "I'm sure there are plenty of men willing to tutor you."

"Not like you," she countered. "Can you really just forget what what we did at the hotel?"

He didn't respond, his expression blank.

"Well, I can't," she continued. Hermione lowered her voice and looked around to make sure no one was near. "You don't want to spank me again? I thought you fancied it as much as I did."

Snape nodded slowly. "I can think of _many_ valid reasons for spanking you now that I know who you are."

She smiled. "Retribution, thy name is Snape?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

"Listen," she said seriously. "I'm a big girl now. I'm not your student. And you're not my teacher. That part of our lives is over. Your letters said you've changed. If that's true, then show me. I'm willing to get to know the man you are today. That pirate I met on Halloween was exactly what I was looking for. I'd like to see him again."

Severus sat quietly for a few seconds, turning her words over in his head. She made it seem so easy. "And what if I'm not the man you think I am? What if I haven't changed?"

Hermione knew he was different from that response alone. "You can be whomever you want to be with me. Let's just see how it goes. If we both find pleasure in each other's company, then what's the harm?”

Whomever he wanted to be. He liked the sound of that. Being the dreaded Potions master of Hogwarts didn't hold the same magic it once had. Maybe this was his escape. "You're honestly comfortable with the prospect of being nude in front of your ex-professor?"

Her face went crimson. "Yes."

"Then why is your face so red? If you think you're embarrassed now, just imagine what it's going to be like if we go upstairs."

Her face somehow burned a few degrees hotter. She could imagine it. Vividly. "I'm not embarrassed because it's you, I'm embarrassed because I don't usually meet men for such purposes."

He could tell she was being honest. And if the color of her face was any indication, she was still attracted to him. He pinched his lower lip, thinking. Maybe she was right. Halloween had been just what he wanted. Hadn't he been ready to do anything to be her first pick? She was still the same witch. He just knew her name now. They had seemed to be such a good fit. If he walked away now, he would be leaving that possibility behind. He nodded to himself. "Would you like something to drink? Tea?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Uh . . . sure. Tea sounds lovely. Thank you."

He rose and pulled off his cloak, draping it over the back of the chair. "I'll be right back."

Hermione watched him walk away, his back stiff and straight. Agitated wasn't quite the right word to describe his body language. More like cautious. She wondered what had convinced him to stay.

Severus went to the men's room. It was empty. And quiet. He could think. Leaning on the sink, he stared at his reflection. He looked old. Older than he'd looked when he left the castle that evening. Compared to her he was ancient. Prodding the wrinkles around his eyes, he sighed. _If she doesn't mind the age difference, you shouldn't either. You knew how old she was when you answered her letters. Stop trying to find excuses for this to fail._

Straightening up, he smoothed down his shirt and tucked it in again. Then he finger-combed his hair even though it looked just as lank as it always did.

_Stop fidgeting! Just go back out there. She's already told you she wants you. You. Not just the pirate. She knows what you can be like, and she's still wants to go though with this. If she's willing to start from scratch, why can't you offer her the same? You liked getting her letters, didn't you?_

He did. 

Her intimate knowledge concerning his past had seemed an insurmountable obstacle at first glance, but now that he thought about it, it was both good and bad. While it made him uncomfortable, she already knew the worst things about him, so there was no ticking time bomb of secrets waiting to go off. Maybe it was better to start something like this with all his cards on the table.

_If her name wasn't Hermione Granger would you even be in here debating this?_

No. He'd be upstairs watching that bum jiggle over his lap. That settled it. He was making things far more complicated than they needed to be.

His reflection tapped at its wrist as if he were late for something.

"I know, I know,” he growled. “Just give me minute.”

He was going to take her up on her offer to be whomever he wanted to be with her. He was tired of being angry all the time. Being miserable was exhausting. This was his chance to let that go. 

At school he would continue to be the vile curmudgeon everyone expected him to be. But with her he would be the man he wished he could be. He'd done it on Halloween; it hadn't even been a struggle. He'd been more himself that night than he'd been in his entire life. He wanted to experience that again. He could be two people. He'd done it before. It would be just like employing Occlumency. Keep it separate. Compartmentalize.

Severus stared at himself in the mirror. It was time to become the man he was.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

"Here," he said, setting her tea in front of her. "I didn't know what you liked, so there's bit of honey in it."

A small smile ticked up her lips. She never thought Snape would be serving her tea. "Thank you. Honey's fine." Putting her face over the mug, she inhaled the sweet steam. It was something spicy with a hint of vanilla.

Snape set his glass of wine on the table and sat across from her again. "How was your meeting yesterday?"

Hermione blinked. She was surprised he cared enough to ask. He _was_ different. "It went well. The forest where a small herd of centaurs have been living for the past two hundred years was being threatened by muggle developers. They wanted to tear down the trees and put up houses."

"How on earth did you resolve that?"

She bit her lip, wondering how much she should tell him. "Representatives from the Muggle Liaison Department worked with us. It involved a Cunfundus Charm, some forged documents, and some acting from the Department head."

"The developer's deal fell through then?"

She just smiled.

"I see you still have the same respect for rules that you had in your youth."

Her eyes narrowed. "I do what needs to be done to protect those who need our help. This deal was more underhanded than most, but there's not a lot of choice when you're dealing with muggles. Usually we just work with both parties until a deal is struck."

"So you argue for a living."

She shook her head, trying not to smile. "That's a bit simplistic."

"Sometimes the truth is simple."

He seemed pretty calm and almost teasing. It was as if getting their drinks had been a pilgrimage rather than just a short trip across the room. Hermione sipped her tea. "May I ask you something personal?"

"If you must."

"Were they not able to completely heal your throat? Your voice is different." It sounded as if he was getting over a cold, his words gravelly and rough. She realized earlier that it was part of the reason she hadn't recognized him on Halloween.

Snape didn't like talking about his injuries, but she was one of the few people who wouldn’t need a detailed explanation. He hadn't known until later at his trial that she had been there when he was attacked. She saw the whole thing. And he knew she had her own scars. She wouldn't judge his. Unbuttoning his top button, he pulled down his collar. "The venom damaged my larynx. They regenerated much of the tissue, but unless I’m whispering, this is as good as it gets.”

The side of his neck was a mass of scar tissue. "I'm sorry.”

"Why? You didn't rip out my throat."

She winced. Her snake nightmares had finally slowed to a trickle. But remembering how Nagini had torn open his neck made her wonder if he had even worse dreams than she did.

He re-buttoned his shirt. "What about you?" Snape said, nodding at her sleeve. "You said you had your own scars."

"It's not as bad as yours." She placed her hand over her arm.

He sipped his wine. "I heard Bellatrix left her signature on you."

"Who told you? Draco?"

He nodded. "How bad is it?"

If he could show her his wounds, she could show him hers. She took a deep breath and pulled up her sleeve. A wave of her wand dispelled the concealing charm. 

Snape ran his fingers over the lines. "Couldn't they heal this?"

She shook her head. "This _is_ the healed version."

It used to look as if someone had stuck wet spaghetti to her arm that spelled out "Mudblood," but after extensive rounds of healing, the scars had become more like raised scratches. She kept it hidden not because of how bad it looked but what it reminded her of.

He could only imagine how gruesome the original injury must have been if this was considered an improvement. The thought of Bellatrix Lestrange carving away at her arm was sickening. Bella was one of the few people who'd actually scared him in his life as an adult. There were people in the world who just didn't care about others; he understood them to some degree. But Bella was that rare breed that thrived on inflicting pain. Screams delighted her the way a puppy would delight a small child. If she had ever come at him with a dagger, he would have made sure she never used that hand again. 

"It's not that bad," he assured her. "Barely noticeable." That was a lie, but to him scars were unimportant.

"I just can't stand to look at it," she whispered.

Severus covered her forearm with his palm, hiding the epitaph. “That’s understandable.”

Hermione gave him an unsure smile. His hand was warm—so much warmer than one would expect from a man like Snape. "What about yours?" she asked, lightly curling her fingers so they brushed his wrist.

Snape unbuttoned his cuff and turned over his arm. "Since you showed me yours," he quipped dryly as he rolled up his sleeve. One hand brushed away the charm.

Hermione ran her fingers over the patch of tight, shiny flesh. It was roughly the shape of his Dark Mark, but if she hadn’t known that, it would have just looked like an odd blob or possibly an old burn. “Yours isn’t noticeable either.”

"You're a bad liar, Miss Granger."

She smiled at him. "Isn’t spanking the recommended punishment for bad liars?"

His lips twitched. "I think we should talk about what's going to happen before it happens."

"Okay. What's going to happen?"

He pulled back and re-buttoned his cuff then took another sip of wine. "Do you still wish to be punished?"

"Yes. Do you still wish to punish me?" she countered.

He nodded. "I do. You may say your safe word at any time, and I will stop. However, I would like to make it clear that you will not enjoy everything that happens. I will push you as hard as I think you need to be pushed, no further. If you decide to use your safe word, everything will stop. I doubt it will be necessary. If you are experiencing some kind of flashback or you feel you are becoming uncontrollably upset, all you have to do is tell me. I am not here to cause you mental and emotional damage. Do you have any questions?”

“How bad is this going to be?”

“Physically it might be more than you think you can handle. Mentally it could be a strain. The sooner you let go and accept what’s happening, the less stressful it will be. You will be embarrassed, but I know you want that experience as well.”

“How long will it last?”

“Until you’ve had enough.”

“What will happen when it’s over?”

“Whatever needs to happen.”

Hermione found his answers rather enigmatic. He meant what he’d written about playing it by ear. “When do you have to leave?”

“When we’re done.”

Hermione sipped her tea while he sipped his wine. She was getting nervous. “Are you going to punish me for any particular reason?”

“You’ve told me the reasons you feel you need punishment. I don’t know if I agree with them, but we’ll work on the most important things first. Unless there is something you’ve done since you wrote that requires correction.”

She shook her head.

“Then I think it’s time we went upstairs.”

Hermione swallowed her tea with a gulp. “Right now?”

“There’s no time like the present.”

He rose from his chair, leaving his wine unfinished on the table. She glanced down at her remaining tea. It was a lost cause. She couldn't drink with her stomach in knots. He picked up both their cloaks and her book then held out his hand to her. 

"Ready?"

She got out of her chair in a daze. Her mind was racing. His hand went to her lower back, and he guided her toward the stairs. Her skin tingled at his touch, even through the thick weight of her jumper. 

"Go on," he said softly, nudging her forward. "Third floor. End of the hall."

His fingers kept rubbing back and forth, tickling the small of her back. She didn't know if he was trying to calm her or keep her on edge. Either way, her stomach was rattling with excitement by the time they got to the room.

He unlocked the door with a charmed key and went in, holding it open for her. She crept in, and he closed the door behind her. Severus put the key on the little desk and then set their cloaks on the chair. The room was small but clean. The low bed sported a mustard-brown duvet, which matched the small flowers in the wallpaper. For a cheap room, it wasn't bad. 

Neither of them needed five-star accommodations to feel as if they'd hit the jackpot. 

He suddenly turned to her. "Does anyone know you're here?"

She nodded. "Ginny."

"Who was your other companion on Halloween? Miss Lovegood?"

"Yes."

"Do you have something worked out with Miss Weasley to be sure you're safe?"

"I told Ginny I'd owl or Floo her by nine."

He relaxed. "We'll take a break in a bit and you can Floo her. Anyone could forge an owl."

"Should I tell her it's you?"

Severus sat on the bed and started to undo his cuffs so he could roll up his sleeves. "I prefer to maintain my privacy, but for safety's sake, I think you should tell her. Can Miss Weasley keep a secret?"

Hermione nodded. "Ginny and Luna aren't gossips. And it's Mrs. Potter now."

"Then just tell _Mrs. Potter_ to keep my identity to herself.” Snape unbuttoned his collar and then drew back his arm to test his range of motion. His sleeves were pulling, so he pushed them up further. The next test swing was free and easy. He stopped, seeing how wide her eyes had gotten as she stared at his hands. “Are you certain you're ready to begin? I've seen parchment with more color than your face."

She couldn't stop wringing the fingers of her left hand with her right, but she nodded yes.

"Did you wear the knickers I asked you to wear?"

She smiled at his boots and nodded again.

"You're suddenly much quieter, Miss Granger. I want you to strip down to your knickers and then come over here and ask me for a spanking."

Hermione was a ball of anxiety. She’d never been so on edge with any other man she’d ever been with. Going to the chair, she faced it and pulled off her jumper, setting it on top of their cloaks. She glanced over her shoulder before she unhooked her bra. He was watching her with a quiet patience. He wasn’t staring her down or salivating, he was just calmly waiting for her to strip. Hermione kept her back to him and started to undo her jeans. Bending down, she pulled off her boots and socks then wiggled out of her trousers and set them on the chair.

Severus watched her approach him. Her knickers were small, purple, and almost transparent. A pink ribbon wound around the top, adding a decorative edge that culminated in a tiny bow at the front. He could see the dark curls of her pubic hair like a shadow behind the thin layer. He kept his face passive, but inside he was applauding her choice. She stood, shifting nervously back and forth in front of him, one arm hiding her breasts as if she’d never been naked in the presence of a man. He gave her a pointed look that said he was waiting for her to speak.

“I . . . I uh, please . . . will you spank me?”

He shook his head. “First, you put your hands by your sides then you tell me what you did wrong. After that, I want you to ask me nicely for a good hard spanking to correct your behavior. And until I say otherwise, you will address me as sir. Is all that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

Severus waited for her to lower her hands. She didn’t seem to know what to do with them, so she clenched them into fists at her sides. He could see the muscles in her throat working as she swallowed loudly.

There were so many reasons she needed that spanking, but she didn’t really misbehave. She’d explained to him in the letters why she needed this so much, and downstairs he’d said he understood her reasons. Was that what she was supposed to say? “I don’t know what I did wrong, sir. I just need to be spanked.”

“How did you feel after the last time?”

“Excited, sir.”

“Were you scared or worried when it was over?”

“No, sir. The opposite.”

“You said in your letters that you felt guilty about the war. Is that the thing that bothers you the most?”

Hermione nodded.

“I expect a verbal answer when I ask you a question, Miss Granger.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I want to hear you say it.”

Her mind was racing again. She wasn’t ready for this. He was pushing her into the deep end with no warning. He had hit her sorest spot without even taking down her knickers. She always avoided talking about the war, but he was opening with it. It had been stressful enough just imagining what was about to happen, but now he was adding jagged glass sprinkles atop her mountainous sundae of torment. Why couldn’t he just give her a simple spanking? She wanted to feel better, not think about the worst time of her life.

Snape saw the panic and pain tighten her features. “Go on,” he said softly, taking her fisted hand in his. “Say it. I’m not here to judge you.”

Hermione stared at the ceiling, blinking like a maniac and biting her tongue to hold back the tears. He was right, this was far more than she'd bargained for. She had thought his warning had been about the humiliation of being over his knee, but now she was starting to see the subtle nuances that went with the territory. The knot in her stomach made her want to vomit.

This was it. She could either be totally honest with him—as he'd asked her to be—or she could lie, a choice that would surely be detectable by a master Legilimens. That didn't seem wise. She wanted him to trust her. And a major reason she had placed the ad was so she could get some of this gnawing pain out in the open. He probably already knew what she was going to say anyway. Taking one more deep breath, she prepared to bare her soul.

“I hate myself,” she whispered. It was no good; she had to wipe away the tears as they slid down her cheeks.

Severus knew that guilt well. “Why?”

“For not saving them. For living while they died.” Her voice was so shaky she sounded as if she were 900 years old.

“That’s your offense?” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Then finish what you have to say.”

“Please, sir, will you give me a good hard spanking?”

“Yes, I will. Get over my knee.”

Hermione got over his lap as fast as she could so he couldn’t see her face anymore. His trousers were scratchy, and she shifted around trying to get comfortable. She hated wool. Maybe it was part of the punishment. If so, she deserved it.

Severus patted her bum a few times so she had some warning about what was to come. _Smack!_ The sound was jolting. He gave her a medium-hard round of twenty. She was softly whining behind her sealed lips by that time, and he paused to let her catch her breath.

“I am not spanking you because you did something wrong,” he said calmly. “I am spanking you because you need it.”

Hermione jumped as his hand cracked against her bum again. Tears streamed silently down her face. She wanted him to beat her arse until she couldn’t feel it anymore.

He kept up a steady firm slapping. Her legs started to kick. “Is this making you feel better?”

“Please hit me harder, sir."

Snape sensed she needed to cry to experience the full benefit of being over his knee. He was reluctant to hurt her, but he knew the need for one pain to drown out another. He’d spent countless years with the same self-destructive mindset. He gave her twelve more slaps, upping the strength to an eight out of ten. She was bawling when he finished. Stroking her glowing backside with his other hand, he tested the heat.

“Please, sir,” she gasped, wiping her face. “I need more.”

He wanted to spank her, but not like this. The way she pleaded for more pain was heartbreaking. Severus rubbed her bum while he considered his options. This was a tricky game. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and he didn’t want to encourage her self-depreciation. He’d told her he would help her in whatever way he could. She wasn’t like his other subs who came to him with whip marks still fresh on their backs. But there were similarities. She needed the sting of his hand and the humiliation of being treated like a naughty little girl, but she wasn’t a hardened masochist jonesing for her next hit. She lived in her head. So did he. He understood. The punishment and pain would draw her from the prison of her mind. He needed to reprogram whatever lies she’d been telling herself all these years. And he wanted to prove that he, Severus Snape, was just as attentive as the pirate she’d swooned over on Halloween. They were one and the same. Maybe he needed to convince himself too.

“You did not cause those deaths,” he said, giving her a nice swat. “Voldemort and his followers caused those deaths.” Another swat. “You did everything in your power to protect those you love.” His hand clapped over her other cheek. “You did not fail.” He gave gave her one final slap to punctuate his point.

Hermione couldn’t breathe, and she was crying so hard her eyes were swollen shut. It felt as though he had punched her in the heart.

“Sometimes we do our best and bad things still happen,” he whispered. “Good people die.” Severus had to bite his tongue to keep himself in check. Granger’s self-loathing hit a bit too close to home. “You are not at fault. Living is not a punishable offense.”

He went back to giving her a slow and steady spanking so she could think about that.

Hermione wanted to scream at him that it _was_ her fault, but she was crying too hard to say much of anything. Just when she started to get dizzy from not breathing right, he stopped and rubbed her sore bum, giving her break.

Severus stroked her flaming backside. “I know you, Miss Granger; and I know that you did everything possible to save as many people as you could. You always do your best, no matter the circumstances. I want you to say ‘I did my best.’”

Hermione couldn’t do it. 

Severus slapped her bum again, but he kept his voice quiet. “Say it. I did my best.”

She croaked out a barely discernible, “I did my best.”

“No one can ask for more than your best, Miss Granger. The fallen do not blame you. Their families do not blame you. Your friends do not blame you. War is ugly. It causes nothing but pain. You have a never-ending need to ease other people’s pain. That is your nature. While you can’t eradicate the world’s suffering, you can do your best to fight evil when you come upon it. That is your salvation, Miss Granger. It’s not me turning your bum blue; it’s you fighting injustice and helping those in need. Now, I want you to say ‘I am a good person. I am doing my best.’”

Hermione took a deep, shaky breath. “I am a good person. I am doing my best.”

Severus rubbed her back. “Say ‘I caused no one’s death.”

She stayed silent.

Snape gave her a hard smack in the center of her cheeks. “Tell me whose death was your fault.”

Hermione’s crying got a second wind, and she couldn't answer him.

“That’s right,” he said, keeping his voice low as he ran his hand up and down her spine. “No one’s. I want you to go stand in the corner for a while and think about that.”

Hermione backed off his lap, still sobbing, and crawled over to the corner, curling into the wall for support.

Severus watched in fascinated horror as she made herself stand. Bloody hell. She was just as fucked up as he was. Despite her inability to breathe and the sorrow wracking her body, she was still fighting to obey him. She was desperate for approval. He went to her immediately. He’d promised to do what was best for her. Putting both hands around her waist, he pulled her back against him and whispered in her ear, “Shhhh, I know. You can rest now.”

Resting sounded wonderful. She never rested. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to calm down. His fingers kept stroking her sides, his soft voice rumbling in her head. It took several minutes, but his efforts finally lulled her into a blur of exhaustion. Her breathing was still shaky, but she managed to stop crying.

Snape released her waist and rubbed her back with one hand. Her muscles felt like stone under that soft skin. “Do you want to stay in the corner, or do you want to sit down?”

“The corner, sir,” she said, touching the wall with one trembling hand as if it were an old friend.

“Then we’ll stay right here.”

Snape observed her carefully as she relaxed even more. She hadn’t been exaggerating about her need for affection. His touch seemed to soothe her faster than a Pacifying Potion. He’d calmed other witches in such situations, but this time felt different. It was unclear whether that was because he was different or if she was bringing it out in him. He didn’t know how to proceed with these new urges. Kissing her brow at the ball had been an impulse. Now he had the urge to scoop her up and sit with her on the bed while she recovered. Did he just want to help her feel better, or was this some new fetish? He couldn’t afford to be confused about this. She needed him to be in charge.

“Are you calm enough to talk?” he asked, brushing her hair to one side.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I know this has been hard for you, but you’re doing very well.” She needed some encouragement.

“I am?”

“Yes. But we need to talk about this a little more.”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus never stopped petting her. He was starting to wonder if he needed to touch her as much as she needed to be touched. “I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Yes, sir?”

“If Miss Weasley came to you and said she blamed herself for Fred’s death, what would you say to her?”

“That I loved her and it wasn’t her fault.”

Severus nodded. “And would you secretly be blaming her for his death even though you’d told her it wasn’t her fault?”

“No!”

“Why do you think you are more to blame than Miss Weasley? Why is she innocent and you have to shoulder the burden?”

She didn’t have an answer for him. She’d never really thought of it like that. Hermione kept hugging herself, tightening her arms around her stomach so it didn’t jump out of her body. Logically, she’d been able to say she was getting past the war, but inside she’d been holding onto the guilt like a security blanket. His hand kept sweeping up and down her back, calming her with the repetitive motion. 

“You are allowed to be angry at those people for dying. That doesn’t make you a bad person. I think you are so horrified by the possibility of blaming anyone but yourself that you’ve never allowed yourself to really be angry. Death is upsetting, but only for the living. Soon you will realize that the only person who deserves blame is Voldemort. He gathered the Death Eaters into battle. He forced the Order’s hand. He made it a war. There is only one person at fault in that scenario, and it isn’t you.”

“Some of it is my fault,” she whispered.

“What part?”

Hermione started to cry again, squeezing her eyes shut to hide from him. “I hurt my parents.”

The line between his brow deepened in confusion. He took her hand and pulled her away from the refuge of the wall. “Come over here.” Leading her to the bed, he sat down and looked up into her swollen eyes. “What do you mean you hurt your parents?”

She gasped out her explanation through her hiccoughing sobs. “I . . . I didn’t want them to get attacked, so I s-sent them to Australia and wiped their memories. They don’t remember me.” She couldn't catch her breath.

Memory spells were tricky. She’d wiped out a major portion of their lives—and hearts. “And you couldn’t undo it when the war was over?”

Hermione shook her head no. “They . . . they think I’m a stranger. I go check on them twice a year.”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered.

Snape didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if his mother had forgotten who he was. She wasn’t an amazing woman by any stretch of the imagination, but she was the only mother he had; and she was the only parent who had shown him any affection. This confession was a bit more complicated. He understood why she blamed herself. 

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling her into his lap. He hadn’t hugged anyone in maybe three decades. It felt odd but not unpleasant. She sobbed into his neck, her body shaking against him. “You were protecting them. And you were successful. They are alive. The outcome could have been much worse. You did the right thing.”

No one had ever said that to her. Hermione wrapped her arm around his neck. She was leaving a wet spot on his shoulder, but she couldn't stop bawling. She’d kept this information mostly to herself. Harry knew, but he had his own things to worry about; so she didn’t like to bring it up. She felt awful complaining to him about her parents when his were dead.

Snape had seen plenty of tears in his time as a teacher, but if she kept crying like that, she was going to make herself sick. He wished he had a Calming Solution with him. “Shhh, it’s all right. You made the best of a bad situation. Sometimes there are no good choices. We do the best with what we have.”

Hermione was knackered. Her head was clogged up, and she couldn’t see through the river in her eyes. Snape just held her tighter. One of his hands stroked the back of her neck. The thumb of his other hand ran back and forth like wiper blades against her spine. She’d never considered him a calming influence before, but now his quiet presence was soothing her back into normalcy. She felt slightly ridiculous being in just her knickers while he was still wearing all his clothes, but she didn’t want to get out of his lap even to get dressed.

Severus waited while she cried herself to a state of utter fatigue. He wished he knew more about making a witch feel better. All he could do was wait until the storm passed. She couldn’t cry forever.

Hermione eventually fell quiet on his shoulder. She sniffed and let out a deep sigh. The hand on her neck slid around to her jaw.

“Let’s get you some water and clean you up,” he said softly.

Her arms tightened around him. “Please don’t let go of me.”

Severus blinked, surprised (and secretly pleased) by her reluctance to leave his embrace. “Very well. I can do my best with my wand.”

Hermione felt him magically sucking the tears and mucous from her face. She knew she must look hideous, but at least she could breathe again. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiled and set his wand behind him. “I’d like you to rest for a little while before we decide how to proceed. I’ll stay with you,” he added before she could ask. “Do you want to get under the covers?”

Hermione nodded. He urged her to climb up the bed, and then he helped her pull down the duvet and get under it. While he stayed above the sheets, she curled on her side and put her hand on his arm. “I’m so tired.”

“It’s been a trying day for you. Take a nap. You need the rest.”

“What will you do?”

“Think.”

“I have a book if you want.”

He smiled. “That’s kind of you, Miss Granger. I’ll read if I finish thinking.”

“Hermione,” she told him.

“What?”

“Call me Hermione.”

“Perhaps.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. Sleep came quickly.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

When she opened her eyes, Snape was in the exact same spot, staring at the ceiling. She released his arm and rubbed her eyes. “How long have I been asleep?”

He glanced at her. “Maybe thirty minutes. How do you feel?”

“Pretty good.”

“Are you ready for your real punishment now?”

Hermione paused in her stretching. “Real punishment? What was that we did earlier?”

“That was simply an exercise to help you feel better. I refuse to punish you for imagined wrongs.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled at her continued gratitude. “You’re welcome. Now, tell me what behavior you’ve been engaging in that you wish to change. We’ll start there.”

“Um . . . I don’t know. I don’t really do anything wrong.”

“What time do you go to bed at night?”

Hermione shrugged. “Maybe two.”

“Do you think that’s healthy?”

“I have work to finish.”

“I think it would be best if you went to bed by eleven at the latest.”

“Eleven!”

“Miss Granger, you cannot properly do your job if you aren’t getting adequate sleep. Ten was my first thought; I’m giving you a lot of leeway.”

“You can’t be serious. I’m not a child. I can go to bed when I please.”

He gave her a stern look. “I told you this was about doing what was best for you. What time do you get up? Six? Seven? You’re getting less than six hours of sleep. That is not healthy. Either you accept my correction or contact one of your other respondents.”

Hermione couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t kidding. He wanted her to be in bed by eleven. “I can’t just switch to sleeping earlier like _that_ ," she said, snapping her fingers to illustrate her point.

“I don’t expect you to. I want you to go to bed fifteen minutes earlier each night until you are in bed by ten-thirty and you can turn out your lights at eleven. Your body will slowly adjust.”

She chewed at her lip for a few minutes, deciding whether she would really do it or not. “Yes, sir.”

He nodded. “Do you wish to visit the lav before we begin?”

“Yes.”

“That’s fine. Go on. I’ll be ready when you get back.”

Hermione climbed out of the bed, leaving behind the warmth of the blankets. Her nipples grew to craggy points in the sudden cold, and she warmed them with her palms as she made her way to the tiny bathroom. She got a drink of water and used the loo. After rinsing off her face, she didn’t look so bedraggled. It was the best she could do. When she went back out, he was sitting at the foot of the bed again.

Severus waved her over. “Stop standing in the door. You know why we’re here.”

Hermione stood next to his knee, wondering if she should just flop down over his lap.

Snape put a hand on her arm to still her. “First tell me what you did wrong and then ask me for correction.”

 _Bloody hell._ Asking him for it was just as bad as the sting of his hand. “I haven’t been getting enough sleep, sir. Please will you give me a spanking?” This was humiliating.

“Have you been a naughty girl?”

Hermione didn’t know she could go from zero to sixty in one phrase. “Yes, sir.”

“What do naughty girls get?”

She knew exactly what he was playing at. “They get a spanking, sir.”

“Yes, they do.” He spread his legs and patted his left thigh. “Face the headboard and get over my knee.”

Hermione was slightly confused, but once she was lying in the general direction with her chest on the bed, he adjusted her so her thighs were on either side of his. The position was mildly sexual, her pussy resting on his leg.

Severus had seen the hesitation on her face. She was considering lying to him and maintaining her late hours. He had a feeling the spanking would change her mind about that. He pulled up the leg of her knickers, checking to see how her skin looked from earlier. It was still pink. He straightened her knickers, smoothing them out neatly; then he gave her bum a few pats to remind her who was in charge. “Let’s begin with five minutes. We’ll see how you’re feeling after that.”

“Yes, sir.”

He started slowly, and Hermione relaxed. It was just like at the hotel. Her clit throbbed against his knee, loving the sharp warmth even more than her bum did.

Severus gradually built the speed and strength. She had been sighing and whimpering happily, but after three and a half minutes, she started to sound a bit worried. He leveled out at a medium pace. He wouldn’t go any faster or harder. She was about to find out that impact wasn’t the only way a spanking could become uncomfortable.

When the five minutes were up, he rubbed her bright pink bum, and she arched into his petting. “Tell me what time you’ll be turning out your lights tonight, Miss Granger.”

Hermione couldn’t think all that clearly. Her bum was hot as a griddle; she reached back to test it with one hand. “One forty-five, sir.”

Severus let her gauge the heat index. “That’s right. And why is your bottom getting a nice tan right now?”

Hermione bit back her grin so he wouldn’t hear it in her voice. “Because I deserve it?”

“The spanking is an admonishment of your past behavior. It will reinforce what is acceptable and what is not. Your sore backside reminds you what happens if you disobey me.”

Hermione winced as he started again. It was so bloody hot in there. Her bum felt as if it was twenty degrees warmer than the rest of the room. She was hoping he would stop after ten or so, but he just kept going.

Severus spent the next five minutes making sure her pink posterior turned evenly red. His hand was starting to smart, but he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. She was loudly gasping and whining through the second round.

Smoothing his hand over the curve of her buttocks, letting her rest, he smirked as she let out a dry sob of relief. “You can’t be a productive member of your department without adequate sleep,” he murmured. “You want to do your best, don’t you?”

Yes, sir,” she groaned. His hand felt like a hot plate.

“You knew it wasn’t good to get so little sleep. You disregarded your own health. That will not be happening any longer.”

He started spanking her again, and Hermione cried into the bedspread, her feet kicking the air; she shouted like a petulant child. She couldn’t help it. Her bum hurt so much. He didn’t seem to be hitting her that hard, but it had been going on forever. _It feels as if I’ve been sitting on a pyre._

Severus lightened up a little. Her bum was probably sore enough now that it would hurt with barely any effort. Her wiggling was becoming more pronounced, but he just tightened his arm around her waist so she wouldn’t buck off his leg. Her skin looked exquisite. He wanted to spend the entire night with his cheek pressed to her burning backside. He could sleep by the warmth of her glow. 

Taking another break, he patted her bum. “This looks very nice now, Miss Granger. I think we’re almost done here. Tell me again why you’re over my knee.”

Hermione took a deep breath and heard the wobble in her voice, “Because I haven’t been taking care of myself properly, sir.”

“That’s right. And how are you going to start taking better care of yourself?”

“By sleeping more, sir.”

“Good.”

The sharp sound of his hand slapping her skin accompanied the sting in her rump. Hermione buried her face in her arm and sobbed. She didn’t have enough energy to fight it. And she realized she didn’t want to. She needed him to smack her bum until she couldn’t think. The stress of work faded in the glow of her backside. The anger toward herself was silenced by the clap of his hand. It was cathartic. Meditation through spanking. It was nice to cry for a different reason—one that wasn’t in her head. 

Severus saw the surrender take over her body. Her back relaxed, and she stopped kicking so violently. Her cries became sobs of deliverance. The more she let go, the more he wanted to take care of her. That urge he’d felt earlier was returning with a vengeance. 

When her bum was the color of a cherry tomato, he stopped again and stroked her cheeks. “That’s enough. Do you think insufficient sleep is acceptable now, Miss Granger?”

“No, sir,” she sniffled.

“This was about twenty minutes. If you choose to not go to bed at a decent hour, we will increase this to forty minutes. I guarantee you, you do not want that.”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus slipped his hand into her knickers, pushing aside her damp gusset and pressing his fingers to her dripping slit. “Do you have a thank you for me, Miss Granger? You are grateful for the correction, aren’t you?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”

“I want you to say ‘Thank you for spanking me, sir. I will go to bed when you ask me to.’”

“Thank you for spanking me, sir. I will go to bed when you ask me to.”

“Excellent. I think we need to make sure this lesson is ingrained _deeply_ ,” he purred, sliding his middle finger inside her. 

Hermione squeaked in pleasure. The spanking had left her even wetter than she’d anticipated. “Yes, sir!”

He smirked. It would take scarcely any effort to push her over. Adding another finger, he watched her dance over his knee. While her earlier squirming had been spastic and without grace, this round was a sinuous solo of hips and pelvis. As he entered her over and over, listening to the percussive squish of her juices, she ground her clit into his thigh like an angry belly dancer. Her muscles grabbed at his fingers, begging him to join in their revelry. His dick gave a jealous twitch behind his zip. _Patience_. 

Hermione shouted a surprised “Huh!” into the mattress. She’d never come so fast in all her life. 

When her orgasm faded and her breathing was back to normal, he pulled his fingers free; her pussy gave an impossible-to-miss slurp at the departure. Severus sucked his fingers clean, tasting a sample of what was to come. _The nectar of the gods._ “Can you stand, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, sir. I think so.”

“Then I want you to go face the wall again.” He helped her up. She seemed unsteady. That was a good sign. “Put your hands on your head. I don’t want you rubbing your bottom.” When she was in place, he rose and stood just behind her. “I want you to think about what we did just now and why.” Severus straightened her knickers and patted her rear. 

Hermione’s face flushed at the gesture. As if she could think about anything else. He hadn’t even taken off her underwear. Her panties were going to be a creamy mess. The slick slide of pussy added a new dimension to her reflections. It was hard to think about proper bedtimes and how much she wanted to do what he said while there was a noticeable leak wetting her underwear.

Severus smiled softly as he watched her wiggle in the corner. He’d left on her knickers for his own amusement. He just wanted to see how wet they could get before he took them off. He had a feeling all future bedtimes for her would involve her hand down her panties and a wet spot she wouldn’t be able to stop touching in the dark. He was fine with that as long as she went to bed when she was supposed to. Her buttocks twitched as the minutes passed, and he grinned at the red glow lighting her globes.

“It’s been ten minutes, Miss Granger,” he whispered. The room was so quiet he could hear the distant hubbub of commerce below their window. “I’d like you to come over here.”

Hermione dropped her arms and wiped the remaining tears from her face before she went over to him.

Severus held out his hand to her. “Sit in my lap.”

Hermione winced as her bum burst to a flame against his leg. 

Snape smirked at her uncomfortable grimace. He stroked her lower back with one finger, right above the border of her knicker elastic. “You did very well today. Did that punishment meet your needs?”

She certainly couldn’t take any more. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. I think we should go downstairs and get something to eat. You can Floo Miss Weasley and tell her you’re safe. Then we can come back up here, and I’ll take down your knickers and give you a thorough inspection. Does that sound agreeable?”

Hermione grinned. “It does. Will you be taking off your clothes for that inspection?”

“That could be arranged. I want to make sure you get everything you need tonight.”

“In that case, I need something right now.”

He gave her a considering look. If she said she wanted his cock that very second, he was going to have to show her what being dominated really meant. “And what’s that?”

“Will you hug me?”

Severus kicked himself for not having done it already. “I was just getting to it.”

He pulled her in tightly against him, and Hermione wrapped her arm around his shoulders. She buried her face in the crux of his scarred neck and inhaled the musky scent of his body. It was subtle. She closed her eyes and memorized its notes, letting it lull her into a hazy afterglow. While this moment was exactly what she’d been looking forward to, she hadn’t been prepared for the other person to be Severus Snape. 

He was a much better hugger than he appeared.  
  
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Hermione knocked on Susan’s office door. It creaked open, and Hermione peeked around the edge. “Susan?”

The redhead glanced up, smiling. “Hermione! Come in.”

Hermione smiled back. “How are you? Is the inn business treating you all right?”

Susan nodded, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Yes. It's exciting. You never know who you might see sharing a table . . . or a room.”

Hermione blushed.

“Please don’t be embarrassed. I was just surprised to see you here with Snape.”

“Yes . . . well. It’s a long story, but I sort of didn’t know it was him I was meeting until I got here.”

“Someone set you up on a blind date with Snape?”

“Something like that,” Hermione said, smiling lightly. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. It's still new, and neither of us needs the publicity.”

Susan made a lip-zipping gesture with one hand. “Your secret’s safe with me. Discretion is the innkeeper’s greatest amenity.”

“Thanks.”

“Is there something you needed, or did you just come to visit?” Susan asked, gathering up The Prophet she’d been reading at her desk.

“Oh, I came to ask if I could use your Floo. I needed to leave a message with Ginny, and I didn’t want my bum hanging out in the middle of the pub.”

Susan snickered and nodded. “I understand. Go right ahead. Powder’s on the mantle.”

Hermione knelt at the immaculate hearth and tossed in a pinch of Floo powder. She called out “Potter Cottage” and stuck her head in the flames. The Potter’s house wasn’t really a cottage, but everyone had taken to calling it that after a sloshed Ron declared it so at their housewarming party.

Her head appeared in Ginny’s kitchen, and Hermione was relieved to see Luna sitting at the table instead of Harry. “Luna! Is Ginny home?”

Luna smiled and nodded. “James wanted a cup of water. She’ll be back in just a second. We’ve been waiting to hear from you all night.”

“Is Harry home?” she asked, looking about nervously.

“No. He’s at a meeting at the Ministry.”

“Thank Merlin,” she muttered. “I don’t think he’s ready to hear about this.”

Ginny burst into the room, grinning from ear to ear. “Hermione! You’re okay. Tell us what’s happened. Did he shag you yet? What’s he like? Is he treating you all right? Are you still there? Did he go digging for your buried treasure yet? Tell us! We're dying here.”

Hermione laughed at her barrage of questions. “He’s . . . um . . . only spanked me so far.” There was barely any volume to the word. “We’re just taking a break.”

“So what’s he like without the mask? Hot pirate or scurvy sailor?”

Hermione looked away, biting back her smile.

Luna nodded. “He looks better than he used to. Being a spy must have taken its toll on his health.”

Ginny was confused. “What? What are you talking about?”

Hermione was floored. “You knew it was him?”

Ginny looked at Hermione. “Him who? Who are you talking about?”

Luna nodded. “His voice sounds wrong, but the way he moves is the same.”

Hermione couldn’t believe Luna had recognized him while she hadn’t. “Why didn’t you say something at Earlgrave’s? I almost had a heart attack when he showed up today.”

“You said you were staying anonymous at the party. I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

Ginny growled. “Would you two tell me who we’re talking about.”

Hermione could see Luna was giving her the opportunity to reveal the secret in her own time. “Do you promise not to tell Harry?” she asked Ginny. “At least not yet.”

“Yes, of course.”

“It’s Snape,” Hermione said softly.

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “Snape? As in Severus Snape?”

Hermione nodded. “When he found out it was me, he almost left. I somehow talked him into staying.”

“Snape,” Ginny repeated again. Her mouth slowly curled into a smile. “Pirate Snape?” She started to laugh. “Woof?”

Hermione blushed. “You’re the one who said he had a nice arse.”

Ginny laughed harder. “Don’t tell Harry.”

Luna smiled. “Are you going to stay with him all night?”

Hermione shrugged. “I’m not sure. I hope so.”

Ginny wiped the tears of laughter from her face, trying to restrain her giggling. “He’s not being too rough, is he?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. He’s really . . . controlled. But . . . weirdly sweet. He’s nothing like you’d think.”

“Have you kissed him yet?” Luna asked.

Hermione was glad the flames hid her blushing. “No. I don’t know if that’s part of the agreement. He hasn’t even taken off his clothes yet.”

“Where is he now?” Ginny asked.

“In the main hall, guarding my cocoa and biscuits.”

Luna breathed out a romantic sigh. “What a gentleman.” 

Ginny’s mad giggling revived when she saw Luna’s dreamy expression. “Yes, very chivalrous. Remember to sip his dick with your pinky out so he knows you’re a lady of quality and good breeding.”

Hermione shook her head, snickering. “I should get back out there. He’s probably wondering where I am.”

Ginny nodded. “Okay. If you can peel yourself off the mattress tomorrow, come and tell me how it went.”

“Kay,” Hermione said, grinning wryly. “Bye, you guys.”

“Be good,” Luna called after her.  
  
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Snape kept his hand on her as they made their way back to the room. Denim didn’t allow him to really feel her, but he knew she needed his touch. Their first real attempt had gone better than planned. She had been honest about what she needed, and there had been little resistance to his discipline. He hadn’t had to get forceful with her; she’d accepted his directions without much convincing—although, he hadn’t really asked for anything extreme. Getting more sleep wasn’t something she could claim was unreasonable.

He handed her the key, and she unlocked the door while he slid his hand up the back edge of her jumper, brushing over her soft skin. There was a metallic scraping as she fumbled with the door, the sound belying her eagerness. They entered the room, and he pulled the key from the lock and set it on the table. The door clicked shut behind them, cutting them off from the outside, sealing them in a private world of their own making. His cock was already filling in anticipation. He was looking forward to seeing her pussy again, and if her nervous glances and soft panting were any indication, she was equally excited.

“I think you’d better get those clothes off,” he murmured. “Inspections are done nude.”

Hermione smiled at the floor, squeezing her thighs together, trying to stanch her dripping core. “For both of us?”

He smirked. “Strip down to your underwear. I’ll do the same.”

Hermione quickly pulled off her jumper and unhooked her bra. The sooner she was naked, the sooner he would be touching her. It was less scary disrobing in front of him this time. She watched him slowly unbutton his shirt as she wiggled out of her jeans. He stared back at her with a hint of amusement on his thin lips as she waited for him to catch up. Her knickers provided scant coverage, and she wished she’d been less hasty. He was just sitting down to pull off his shoes, and she was left lighting the room with her high-beams while he observed her growing desire with a cool eye.

Severus took in her sharpened nipples and shifting dance. Unfastening his trousers, he lifted his hips and matched her level of nudity with his own. His dick was solid enough to tent his black boxers, and her eyes kept sweeping over his form—sticking when they got to his crotch. Her inability to hide her pleasure was a bit immature, but compared to the jaded witches he usually slept with, it was oddly sweet. She didn’t know how to play the game. There would be no soft sighs of halfhearted arousal, breathed only to incite him to more vigorous action, no blasé looks flung to fuel his curiosity. There was no mystery here. Her experience was limited to young men who had probably stroked or licked her clit for a few minutes then tried to fuck her to orgasm (also for a few minutes). She’d never had experienced men compete for her company. She didn’t know that she held the power. 

“Whenever you take your correction well, I will make sure you are rewarded as you were earlier. The spanking was the punishment; the pleasure was to assure your compliance. I find witches are more than willing do as you ask if they know their continued good behavior will result in orgasm.”

Hermione couldn’t argue with that. 

“Get on the bed on your hands and knees,” he said softly. “Inspections follow all punishments. From now on when I see you, we will start with an inspection. I will see how your previous punishment is healing and gauge the level of your arousal. If you have been sentenced to any anal correction, I will check to make sure you have been following through and that you are healthy and clean.”

Hermione’s face turned scarlet. What did he mean by anal correction? How clean did she need to be? Staring at the muted mustard color of the bedspread, she swallowed hard, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. Just because she sometimes fingered herself back there didn’t mean she was ready for anybody else to do it.

Severus rose and stood behind her. The curve of her backside was lovely. She was no longer a skinny schoolgirl. She’d fleshed out in a visually appealing way. And bent over as she was, she was even more alluring. Placing one hand on her red rump, he traced his fingers over her skin as he spoke. “I don’t want to confuse you. If we have sex, it will be because we both want to have sex; it will not be a reward for your behavior and it is not a part of your correction. It might sometimes happen because you need it, but it will never happen just because we are meeting. It is not expected. While I enjoy your pussy, I can control myself. If you get what you need from the spanking or if you just need me to hold you for an hour, that is what needs to happen. There will be no fucking because you feel guilty about my physical state or because you think you owe me. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

He smiled. She’d switched from casual to respectful with no prodding. Her ability to slip so easily into a submissive state was indicative of her need to let go. This had been building in her for quite some time. Running his finger over the valley of her stretched purple panties, he teased her divide, skating down to the plump lips of her hidden sex. “I’m going to take down your knickers now. In the future, all your punishments will happen on the bare bottom and your pre-punishment pleading will alter accordingly. Tell me what you're going to say next time you ask me for correction.”

Hermione’s face could not possibly get any hotter. She was glad her embarrassment was hidden by her position. “Um . . . please spank my bare bottom, sir?”

He nodded. That was acceptable for now. He’d push it when she started to get used to the humiliation. Peeling her knickers down her hips, he bit back his growing grin. He’d felt how wet she was earlier, but seeing it was entirely different. The glinting shine peeking from her slit was stunning. Her tiny knickers clung to her sex and had to be persuaded to leave the juicy warmth of her folds. He could understand their reluctance. Her knickers dropped to her knees, and he slid one hand between her thighs, urging her to spread her legs more, grazing her damp slit with the side of his finger. 

Hermione whimpered into the bed. She spread her legs as far as her knickers would allow. He kept his hand on her thigh longer than necessary, and she prayed he would “accidentally” brush over her lips once more. He didn’t. Instead, his hands stroked her heated bum and prodded her flesh. She knew he was studying his handiwork, and it made her skin prickle with excited embarrassment to be under such close scrutiny. He could see everything: her creamy cunny, her hidden hole, her punished posterior. Her pussy didn’t seem to mind the attention; it got noticeably wetter as the exam progressed. When his fingers gently parted her cheeks, she squeaked into the bed. 

A pale strip of white highlighted her furrow where his spanking hadn’t reached. He ran his fingers over it, testing her response. When he trailed over her dark whorl, she gasped. _Yes, we’ll go back to that later._ He eased one puffy, pink petal to the side. “Arch your back more. Let me see.”

Hermione closed her eyes and did as he asked. She had a feeling she might climax if his investigation was lengthy enough. He was barely touching her, and her pussy was already streaming.

Severus used his middle and index finger to hold open her slippery sex. His cock seemed interested in his find; it was peeking out of the opening in his boxers, straining to take the exploration deeper. Grasping himself though the thin cotton of his shorts, he squeezed his dick back into submission. _Soon. She’ll want to meet you first. Wait until you’re properly introduced._ Slipping one finger up her slick channel, he tested the conditions. _Primed for takeoff._

Hermione arched her back even harder, ready to start rocking on his finger. He didn’t give her a chance, sliding lower, slowly parting her folds until he arrived at her clitoris. She jumped at the contact. Her nub was so swollen it could probably be seen from space. He held her open again, and she felt one finger, silky from her arousal, pulling back her hood so he could see the underlying bulb. She fought not to squirm, but all she wanted was for him to massage that little button until she shuddered and screamed. 

Severus saw her pussy twitch; it was already desperate for penetration. Her clit looked as if it was on the verge of bursting. She was certainly a responsive little witch. “This looks excellent, Miss Granger. I believe you pass inspection. This arse better be sparkling clean when you come to me.”

Hermione groaned as he brushed over her anus again. His finger came back down and tapped at her perineum, making her shiver and whimper.

Her pussy and arsehole winked at him; Severus winked back and kept stroking that thin expanse of skin. “Naughty girls get uncomfortable plugs in their bottoms; good girls get whatever they beg for.”

Hermione’s eyes popped open as he tickled her backdoor. She shuddered and let out a ragged breath.

“Is there something you’d like to beg for, Miss Granger?”

She shook her head no, unable to speak.

 _No? We’ll see about that_. “Then turn over on your back. If you want to feel my tongue between your legs, you’d better spread wide.”

Hermione was on her back with her knickers off and her legs open before he could count to five. 

Severus had to wipe one hand down his face to hide his laugh. “Very good, but you do know we have all night, don’t you? You don’t have to do everything at warp speed.”

Hermione blushed and nodded. She couldn’t help it. She was ready to go.

Snape pulled off his shorts, and her eyes went wide. Climbing in the bed with her, he settled his shoulders between her legs and began by stroking and kissing her soft inner thighs. He could already smell her pussy. Just being in the vicinity left his mouth watering. “Mmm, you smell delicious.”

Hermione gasped when he nibbled her thigh. His teeth scraped a path up to the juncture of her leg and torso, where he licked and grazed the sensitive skin. “Mm!”

Snape grinned at her neatly-trimmed pussy and kissed the outer reaches. When she started bucking, he held down her hips with one arm and nuzzled her wet groove. His nose bumped her clit, and she let out desperate whine behind her locked jaw. He snaked his tongue between her parted lips and drank straight from the source. She was sweeter than any confection at Honeyduke’s, and the musky scent of her arousal was a heady trip. He wanted to bury his face in her cunt and get high on it.

His greasy black hair tickled her thighs, and Hermione reached down to pet him. His tongue slowly lapped through her folds, making her eyes roll back in her head. He went lower to tease at her opening, and she hissed through her teeth as his tongue slithered up her passage and his nose nudged her nub. She’d been eaten before but never with such deliberate patience. He burrowed into her pussy as if he were searching for a prize buried in her depths. Mashing her lips together, she fought not to shout.

Severus pushed her legs to her chest, exposing her completely. He sucked one plump lip into his mouth and pulled at her sex. She sounded as if she were struggling to keep her moans contained. That wouldn’t do. Releasing her labia with a wet pop, he gave her a warning look. “Why are you trying to censor yourself?”

She panted down at him. “What?”

“I want to hear you moaning. The louder you are, the better I’m doing. How will I know what you enjoy if you don’t make it known?”

Hermione dropped her head back. “I’ve never . . . I mean . . .”

“You’ve never made noise in bed?”

“Not with another person.”

“But you have alone?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Open your mouth and pretend you’re alone.”

“I’ll sound ridiculous.”

He hid his rolling eyes. “I’ll be the judge of that. I’ve heard witches make all kinds of noises, and none of them ever sounded ridiculous.” That wasn't completely true, but he didn't want her to be self-conscious. 

“Okay.” Hermione closed her eyes and tried to forget he had ears.

Severus went back to her juicy cleft, tonguing her clit for a bit before moving down to her entrance. She moaned, and he growled approvingly, encouraging her to give him more. He flickered his tongue over her perineum, and she jerked once and let out a strangled gasp. When he repeated the action, she gave him a whimpery “huuuh.” _That’s it. Are you ready to beg yet?_

Hermione’s head was reeling. He went to her clit, and her back arched into a fitful bridge. She was getting closer. “Uuuuuuh.”

Snape slid down and pushed two fingers into her satin heat. He adored that silken sloshing. If she got any wetter, he was going to need a snorkel. She was getting louder now (both vocally and vaginally), and he was enjoying her increasingly desperate moans. _I wonder what kind of sounds I can fuck out of her._  

"Gonna come soon," she panted. "Please, Severus."

"You do sound rather juicy," he muttered into her slit. "Tell me what you need."

Hermione licked her parched lips and tried to swallow. "Stay on my clit. Please!"

Severus could do better than that. Sealing his lips around that engorged nub, he suckled her nest of nerves while his fingers curled inside her. Her g-spot was just as swollen as her little button. Staying right on top of it, he listened to her deconstruct. Her reluctance to moan seemed forgotten as she climaxed. It was a good thing he'd erected that sound barrier. The Bones girl would have been pounding on their door, telling them belt up. While his ego found that appealing, he might never get her to moan again after such an embarrassment.

Her body finally wound down, stilling as her climax faded. His hand was soaked. His face was soaked. The bed was soaked. It had been a successful first round. He hadn't gotten the begging he expected, but the night was young. 

"See, you do know how to moan," he commented as he licked his glistening fingers.

Hermione put one hand over her heart, holding it inside her chest. "No one else has ever made me come like that."

"That was just an appetizer, Miss Granger. Sex should be a gourmet meal. Let's move on to the next course."

She was hoping for a palate cleanser before the entrée. "I want to do the same thing to you."

He smirked. "If you mean you want to suck my dick, then say so. The bedroom is no place for misunderstandings."

"Okay. I want to suck your dick. And some other things. If you come, how long will we have to wait for you to get hard again?"

Severus hid his amusement and climbed up to lie next to her. "The time varies. Maybe half an hour."

"That's perfect," she said with a pleased smile. "It takes me about a half hour to come, so we can switch off when you're ready."

"Switch off?"

"Yes, you know, I'll come and then you can shag me until you come."

"Wouldn't you like to come while I'm inside you?"

Hermione's brow furrowed in thought. "We can try. But I'll have to touch my clit the whole time. I've done it before. It's easier if I'm on top for that bit."

Severus suddenly understood her reasoning. "Have you only ever come by touching your clit?"

Hermione nodded slowly. Was there another way to do it? Thrusting felt good, but it never got her anywhere. "Yes."

"You've never come hands-free? Or tongue-free as the case may be.”

"No. Well . . . once."

He put his hand on her thigh. "What happened?"

She blushed furiously, her face glowing with heat. "I . . . I was horseback riding, and . . ."

He smirked. "The horse fucked you until you came?"

She blushed but laughed at the ceiling.”Ha ha," she muttered. "No. It was just . . . the pressure of the saddle and . . . the constant bump of movement."

He nodded with a grin. She was so easy to embarrass. "You've never used a vibrator or a dildo or anything?"

Her face flamed. "Uh . . . yes . . . but uh . . . only when I want to have something inside me."

"I see. When you're alone, do you stay in the same position every time? On your back?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not every time. It is the way I do it most often, but sometimes I do it other ways."

"That's good. Your body gets used to the same position. I've known several witches who could only come while lying on their backs. Pleasure can become a habit just like anything else. This coming week, I want you to practice masturbating in every possible position you can think of. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded but kept her eyes from meeting his. Having her ex-professor tell her to explore masturbation was beyond bizarre. And she had never been so eager to complete an assignment.

"I intend to show you tonight that you can come without touching your clit. Orgasms are like ice cream. Your clitoris can provide you with mint chocolate chip, but your pussy can provide rocky road and sometimes double chocolate chip. It’s a good idea to keep your options open.”

She smiled. He’d remembered her offhand comment about ice cream preference, comparing her orgasms to her favored flavor. He was either overly confident about his sexual prowess, or he knew things she didn’t. Hermione was leaning toward the latter. He wasn’t a boastful man, and her experience was limited. “What if I can’t?”

“You will,” he assured her. “We’ll have to work you up to it. I’ll touch your clit until you’re right on the edge then we’ll let my cock take over. Right now your body is accustomed to only coming from clitoral stimulation, but if your brain starts to associate orgasms with sex, it will learn to climax from the penetration. New connections are constantly being made.”

“I’ve never associated sex with orgasms. Well . . . not my own.”

“I gathered that. It’s much easier than you think. I’ve seen women learn to orgasm from nipple play alone. One master I used to know trained his slaves to climax with a phrase. He said it every time they came until they were addicted to it. He would get them worked up and then push them over with a few words.”

“What did he say?”

“I’ve no idea. I could never hear him. I knew a few witches who could breathe themselves to orgasm too. It’s best to keep an open mind. Your body can do things you’ve never even considered. And we have all night. Time isn’t an issue. Take as long as you need.”

His hand was warm on her thigh. Hermione reached down and drew her fingers through his pubic hair in a tentative gesture of exploration. She’d been waiting all week to see that cock again, and it was just as magnificent as she remembered. Her fingers grazed the base, and he twitched at the contact. “Does that mean we’re going to sleep here all night long?”

Snape’s eyes drank in her naked body. He hadn’t spent the night with anyone is ages. Casual shagging didn’t require sleepovers, and he preferred the solitude of the dungeons. But she had made her desire for companionship as clear as her desire for discipline. He’d agreed to her needs as soon as he’d penned his second letter. “Is that what you’d like?”

“Yes. Nights are the loneliest time.”

He too found night to be a fertile time for imagined partners. It had, on rare occasions, been troubling enough to get him out of bed and to the owlery to send a message to one of his past bedmates. Humans needed human companionship, and empty sheets had a way of highlighting that missing ingredient. “I’ll be here all night.”

"I can pay for half the room."

He marveled at the things she thought about under such circumstances. "That is unnecessary, Miss Granger. I have quite a nest egg saved. Living at Hogwarts most of the year keeps my expenses down."

Her fingers crept to his manhood. She was dying to get reacquainted. She'd tried to imagine what sex with someone of that size would be like, but she had absolutely nothing to compare him to. Even her dildo wasn't very thick. Her small selection of toys provided her with length but not width. She’d never found it necessary. 

He slid his arm around the back of her shoulders. "Go ahead. Get to know each other. You're about to become intimately involved."

Hermione bit her lips to hold back her gleeful smile. "I meant what I said in my letters. Your cock is bloody gorgeous."

Snape ran his thumb over her silky shoulder. Good dick was probably his one redeeming quality. He had a feeling the witches who'd agreed to sleep with him were doing so for purely selfish reasons. Although many had praised his actions between the sheets (or against the wall or on the sofa), none had ever just come right out and openly complimented him. Some had begged to suck him (he could be obliging), and he knew the reason behind their requests; but he was enjoying her outright honesty. 

"Show me how much you like it," he said, urging her closer. 

Hermione sank down to stare her new friend in the eye. He was half hard, and she ran one finger over his plumping sex. There was something about that state of almost-erection that made her mental. It was a silent dare of possibility. There was a great deal of power inherent in a rock-hard cock, but for now it was just a suggestion—like seeing Superman's S peeking out of his dress shirt. She wanted to awaken that gripping coil of desire in him. The incident at the hotel had given her a taste of his passion, and she wanted to see how intense he could get.

Petting his soft, furry sac, she inspected his member, taking mental pictures for future solo sessions. She knew what he looked like completely erect, so she was also noting the changes that took place as he grew. As she stroked and studied him, he hardened in her hand, his silken foreskin pulling back to reveal the tip of his swollen knob. She nuzzled his bobbing erection, breathing in his scent. That hint of masculine musk she'd smelled on his neck earlier was in abundance here. Burying her nose in his balls, she took a deep breath, trying to memorize it so her fantasies would be overflowing with sensual details. 

Severus gritted his teeth as she began to lick his shaft. Her visual and manual observations had left him hard as a broom handle. As soon as she started cupping his bollocks and burrowing into his pubes, he was grunting like an amorous grizzly. He should have known from her days as his student that she would take "thorough" to new levels. He'd never had a witch go on such a leisurely tour of his nether regions. It was maddening while at the same time touching in her admiration. 

Once her tongue had him twitching and straining, Hermione took him in her mouth as she had that first night, but this time she suckled his bulbed head, running her tongue over its velvety smoothness. He tasted amazing, something she never would have guessed when she used to sit in his classroom watching him sneer at their work. He hadn't sneered once so far. (Although the circumstances were quite different.) His letters had said time had mellowed him. She wondered if that was only true privately or if he had changed as a teacher too. 

Severus growled as she tugged his foreskin and then pulled it up, covering the corona. Her tongue slipped between his throbbing head and that sheath, circling around and stimulating both areas at once. His dick was so packed with blood, it felt as if it had gained a few pounds since he'd taken off his trousers. She stayed right there on the head for several minutes, making him jerk and huff like a schoolboy. No witch had played him to such a boiling point in decades. He wasn't even sure she was aware how desperate he was. He knew she was no virgin, but she'd seemed so naïve about some things. 

Hermione smiled at his needy growl. That smoky, dangerous baritone she remembered from school was more of a graveled rasp now. She'd noticed that he spoke much more quietly than he used to. Whether that was due to his more laid back attitude or because it hurt his throat to get louder, she wasn't sure. When she'd been a teenager, she hadn't really paid attention to the quality of his voice; but now that she was sharing a bed with him, she was suddenly all too aware of what his words could do to her. Her pussy twitched at his next short groan. Giving his dick a break, she went down to get to know his balls better.

Severus unlocked his teeth and stretched his jaw as she lapped at his scrotum. He spread his legs a bit wider to give her more room. She was on a mission. He was going to have to return this favor later. He couldn't have her thinking she could just lead him around by the dick.

"I want to watch you this time," she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. "I'll lick you clean afterward."

His cock twitched happily at the suggestion. He stared her down as she started to stroke him. Her eyes darted between his face and his dick. She gradually got faster until he was panting hard and fast through his nose. His balls began to rise, and she used her other hand to resist their ascent. She'd done this before. Which of her inadequate lovers had taught her the fine art of hand jobs? Or had she sought out the information on her own, hoping to avoid tasting yet another cock that left her wanting? 

"Come for me, Severus," Hermione whispered. She gave him a crafty smile. "I'm going to think about this while I practice those new positions at home. You're sexy as hell when you're on the edge."

Where her newfound assertiveness came from, he had no idea; but picturing her fingering her wet little pussy while she thought about his cock pushed him past the point of no return. Twitching his hips into her hot fist, he came with a hissed growl. She watched his eruption with a small smile, never stopping her delicious hand movements. When he was empty, she met his sated gaze and milked the last of his seed from his tired prick. 

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. He was panting and staring at her as if he wanted to fuck her into next week. Watching him come was beautiful. She wanted to see it again as soon as possible. And hear it. If he grunted in her ear like that while they were shagging, she was bound to pin him to the bed and ride him till he couldn't walk.

Severus covered her hand with his own, not taking his eyes off hers. Maybe she wasn't the witch he thought she was. "That was . . . brilliant," he muttered. "I'm curious who schooled you in such matters."

"Most wizards don't like to hear about my previous exploits," she said, leaning down to lap his spattered abdomen.

He smirked. "I won't be jealous. Tell me, were you a reluctant virgin who mastered manual stimulation to avoid going further, or did you pick it up to keep past boyfriends from heckling you for sex?"

"Neither," she said evenly, licking him clean. She didn't think she'd ever love the taste of jizz, but he was less bitter than most. "I just wanted to be good at it. I learned the techniques from books, but I learned the timing from real life. No guy turns down a hand job."

Snape chuckled and absently stroked her head as he watched her cleaning routine. "Knowing your penchant for perfection, I'm surprised you didn't practice them into a state of rawness."

She smiled sweetly. "Just the first one."

Severus snorted. "Give me a minute to catch my breath then we can get you ready for the second round."

Hermione nodded and backed off the bed.

"Where're you going?" he mumbled.

"The loo."

"Don't be gone long."

"Kay." She smiled and made her way to the tiny bathroom. She wanted to empty her bladder and check her hair. It seemed unlikely that her body could contain any extra fluids in addition to his cock. The added pressure might cause her to spring a leak when he pushed inside. 

Severus rubbed his face, trying to erase all previous assumptions he had concerning her. If they were going to go on like this, he had to stop thinking of her as an ex-student (and friend of Harry Potter). She was a woman in her own right and had been through things he'd never considered. Flipping through her letters in his mind, he tried to piece together her life since Hogwarts. She was an interesting witch, and this whole business with the personal ad just went to show him how little he knew about her. She certainly seemed less annoying than she had been in school. Perhaps time had changed her as well.

Finding his wand, he cleaned the remaining stickiness from his abdomen and stretched a bit. It was a good thing she'd made him come once already. He could have restrained himself through the fucking, but it would have been a struggle. He wasn't as insatiable as he'd been as a teenager, but he still had the libido of a randy bull. Sex was a necessary outlet for his tension, but sometimes he just liked to see how much he could make a witch come. This was one of those times. He needed to concentrate, and he could do that now that his balls weren't screaming at him for release. 

Severus thought about how desperately he'd wanted her to choose him on Halloween. He'd set out to dazzle her. It was in the bag now, but he still wanted to make sure she knew that she'd chosen correctly. If he didn't give her a taste of what sex could be like with him, he wouldn't be playing to his strengths. He could still be cold and sarcastic, and she might suddenly decide she could do without his attitude. It was best to keep her coming round for more.

Hermione rinsed out her mouth at the sink and then checked her makeup. Her mascara had claimed to be smear and flake-proof, and so far it was standing up to the job. Despite her earlier waterworks, she didn't look like a raccoon. Turning around, she studied her bum in the mirror. Her reflection wiggled its arse with a cheeky grin, and Hermione shook her head at its antics. She just wanted to see how red it was. It looked good. Snape had left a nice rosy glow. Rubbing it with one hand, she tested the temperature and soreness. It was hot to the touch and had some sting left in it. Mostly it felt warm and tingly. She wondered if he'd rub it for her.

Severus turned as she came out of the bathroom. She looked quite lovely without any clothes. He was a fan of the female form, and she was a marvelous specimen. She smiled with a mixture of shyness and amusement, not meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds. He smirked. "Do you approve of the color?"

"The color?"

"Were you not critiquing my work in there?"

Hermione blushed, chagrined at being found out. "It looks nice."

"I completely agree. I think you'd better get back in bed. I'm not finished with you yet."

Crawling in next to him, she smiled as he turned to face her. He put a hand on her shoulder, and Hermione stared into his black eyes as he stroked her arm. Although his face was blank, she could swear he was smiling just a bit. It almost seemed like an optical illusion—gone one second, but from the right angle, it returned. She wondered what he thought about all this. Was it work for him to spank her, or did he get off on it? Did he just like the control, or was the sex the big draw for him? He'd said he could do without it, but she didn't know if there would ever be a time when she didn't want to see him naked. His body was all hard lines and ropy muscle. The soft light of the room left parts of him in concealing shadows. She wanted to take him out in broad daylight and study his body until there wasn't an inch she didn't know intimately. 

Snape slid his hand to her breast, palming the soft flesh and giving it a squeeze. She felt even nicer than she looked (which was really saying something). Capturing her budding nipple between his index and middle finger, he watched her chest rise and fall in a sigh of pleasure. He planned to work her right up to the edge before entering her. 

"Get on your back," he whispered. 

Hermione let him ease her over, leaving both her breasts open to his gaze. He seemed to be getting an eyeful. She didn't think she was well-endowed enough to merit such a lengthy look. She hadn't blushed this much since she was eighteen. It was hard to tell if that was due to the raw sexuality he exuded or the feeling that she was a naughty schoolgirl sleeping with her professor. Her thoughts were cut short by the warmth of his mouth kissing down the center of her chest.

Snape grinned into her skin when she made a soft noise of pleasure. Sliding over to one tight peak, he slid his tongue across the knotting tip. Her hands sank into his hair to hold him to her. He visited the other side, making it match the first. When both her nipples were standing proud, he pressed them closer and began to suck them one at a time. The fingers on his scalp became more urgent, dancing over his cranium like some manic phrenologist. Her whimpering increased, and he smiled around her. _Let's make sure that pussy's good and wet before I get there._

Hermione arched into him as he turned up the intensity. The harder he sucked, the louder she moaned. His hair ghosted over her chest, tickling her like silk. When she felt his teeth scrape over her stiff nipple, she threw her leg around his and tried to pull him on top of her.

Severus couldn’t hold back his chuckle. She certainly kept him on his toes. Lightly biting her left tit, he dragged another guttural moan from her. He had no idea what in her past had led her to silence her own cries, but she sounded perfect to him. Whoever had caused her to doubt her own sexual voice deserved to be Crucioed. Sliding one hand down to her pussy, he grazed her outer lips, giving her clue what was coming next.

When one finger pushed inside her, Hermione took her leg off him and spread her thighs as wide as she could. “Yes!”

He grinned and gave her one last nip. “Such a wet little witch,” he murmured, tickling her clit with his thumb. The sound that accompanied his fingers was deliciously vulgar. Kissing his way down her belly, he found himself back at the gates of heaven. She smelled as divine as she sounded. Her pussy was tight. Not virginal, but he had a feeling she didn’t push her limits when she played. “Let’s get you ready for my cock, shall we?”

Hermione stared down at him, breathless with need. She’d never been so out of her mind from a little foreplay before. But then again no one had ever really known what she wanted. Two fingers slipped inside her, gently pumping and stretching her. Two was all she ever used on herself. She was a little scared of the size of his dick. Excited but scared. What if it hurt? What if he tore her apart? His cock was beautiful, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be deadly. _Stop scaring yourself, Hermione. He’s not a dick-wielding serial killer. He promised to make you orgasm. He’s not planning on shagging you to death._

Severus added another finger. She grunted softly and went still, her eyes burning into his. _Did you like that? I think you can take more._ He gently worked those fingers in and out of her, preparing her for the coming invasion. "How does that feel?"

Hermione could only nod her head. 

"Do you want another finger, or do you want to try it with the real thing?"

"Will you go slowly?"

He gave her a curious look. "Did you think I would hurt you?"

"Not really. It's just . . . you've got a lot to work with."

He snickered and licked his fingers clean. "And I know how to use it too. Would you prefer to be on top? Most witches find it easier if they can control the rate of descent."

Hermione thought about that. It would be faster, but she'd had so many fantasies during the past week about her pirate sinking into her, braced above her, staring into her eyes. Was she being too romantic? This wasn't a steamy novel with a ripped wizard gracing the cover. "I've been thinking about you being on top mostly."

Severus looked up at her, biting back a grin. "Have you? What have you been imagining?" he asked as he crawled up to face her.

Swallowing hard, she studied his dark eyes. They seemed bottomless, dark as night. "Um . . ." She had to look down to his mouth so she could concentrate. She focused on his crooked lower teeth as he got in place and wrapped her legs around his hips. "All week I've been imagining what would’ve happened if you'd shagged me at the hotel."

He nodded. His thoughts had gone in a similar direction. Leaning on one hand for support, he reached between them, trapping his resurrecting dick between their bodies. Just a little rubbing would have him back to his fighting weight. "Tell me how you pictured it."

He started to grind against the outside of her pussy, indirectly stimulating her clit. Hermione groaned and rolled her hips into him. He was so bloody warm. “After you spanked me, I pretended you shagged me."

"How?"

"You turned me over on my back, pushed up my skirts and took down your trousers." She blushed about what she was going to say. It wasn't the sex that embarrassed her, it was the sentiment. "You got above me just like you are now and stared into my eyes while you entered me."

He could see the reluctance in her to admit that. "I pictured the same thing."

A small smile twitched at her lips. "You did?"

"Several times this week." Her sex was so soft. He was sliding against her as if she were coated in oil. She could not have possibly been wetter. "But I never imagined that your pussy would feel this amazing."

Hermione smiled for real and slid her hand over his arm. He was so thin every muscle stood out as if it had been chiseled from shadow. "You're a lot better than I imagined too. Hotter. Harder."

He smirked. His dick was turning to granite between them. "You haven't seen anything yet. Are you ready for this?"

She nodded, the excitement rolling off her in waves. "Yes, sir."

He reached down and grabbed hold of his dick. Her sudden switch to calling him sir was both a turn on and a surprise. He wondered just how deep her need for submission went. Did she just need the spankings, or had she been harboring more hardcore longings? Or was it simply that she found freedom in giving up control. He suspected that was the most accurate guess. She spent her days fighting and dominating. This was her only chance to let go. He could give her that. Drawing his knob through her juice, he rubbed himself over her clit. "Is this what you need? Say it. Only good girls who know how to beg for my cock get to ride it."

Hermione stared at him. If his voice got any darker and rougher, she was going to come from the vibration alone. "Please let me have your cock, sir. Please!"

Pressing himself to her entrance, he gave her the tip. "That's it," he purred as her fingers tightened around his arms. "Hold on to me. You're going to be nice and full very soon. Tell me if you need me to stop."

He started to push inside, and Hermione gasped at the stretch. It didn't hurt, but she'd never felt anything like it. Both her hands clasped his arms, her fingers biting his flesh. His gaze was like icy fire. How such cold eyes could scorch her was a mystery she couldn't even begin to contemplate. He slowly moved inside her, filling her a little more with every rock of his hips. She didn't know how much he'd gotten in so far, but she knew he wasn't going to fit completely. There was only so much real-estate her vagina had to offer.

Severus grunted as her sheath twitched around him. He watched her expression closely. The deeper he went, the wider her eyes got. He had to bite his tongue to not laugh. She felt bloody fantastic. This was going to be an interesting night. He wanted her to be so knackered when they were done she wouldn't be able to worry about the myriad of horrors circulating through her head. When he tapped her cervix, she gasped. Taking a deep breath, he softly ground himself into her, not really thrusting, just loosening her up and prepping her for what was to come.

"Huh!" Her vocal cords wouldn't cooperate. She couldn't tell him how good he felt. There was no room left inside her for worry or guilt. He was filling every available space with his generous cock. She'd never known anyone who could fuck away her fear.

Staying deep, he began to gently thrust. Her eyes rolled back, and she clawed at his arms. He didn't mind. Every time the scratches flared under his robes, he'd think of her. The distraction would be a nice break during the school day.

"That's my sweet little witch," he whispered. "Doesn't that feel better?"

"Mmmmmm!" She nodded and writhed under him, sliding her legs along his hips. She suddenly understood why some women were so fond of sex. It had always been fun before, but this was a whole new world. No one had ever stared her down and growled at her while filling her to full capacity. How was she ever supposed to leave this bed? 

He knew a yes when he saw it. Her continued attempts at language were hilariously arousing. There was no mistaking her desire. Her body's responses were just as honest as her letters. She started to paw at his chest, scrambling to grab his shoulders and hold on. 

"Shhh," he crooned, sinking down onto his elbows so she could reach him. "I'm right here."

Hermione slung one arm around his neck. His hooked nose brushed hers, and he kissed her cheek. His hips pulled back farther before plunging in, lengthening his stride. She put her other hand to the side of his face and met his unwavering gaze. "Please."

He smiled softly and kissed her face again. "We'll get there. Just focus on how it feels right now."

Her throat was dry from panting, and she swallowed loudly. If her breathing got any louder, she was going to blow him away. 

Snape kissed his way over to her ear. Maybe this wasn't going to take as long as he'd thought. "Your pussy feels sublime. Is my cock what you needed?"

"Yes, sir.”

"Do you want to try it a little faster?"

Hermione nodded vigorously.

He gave it to her hard and fast for about five seconds. Her desperate hum made it clear how much she enjoyed it. Settling back to a slow grind, he let her calm down. "How was that?"

"Good," she panted.

Smirking, he nipped her ear. "Are you less nervous now?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. What's your favorite position?"

She swallowed again. She was going to need a liter of water after this. "Um . . . doggie."

He could feel the heat of her blush against the side of his face. "Would you like to try it? I think you'll enjoy the different angle." And hitting her front wall would aid him in his quest, giving him a boost to help push her over.

Hermione was willing to try just about anything he suggested. Nodding, she slid her hands over his shoulders and touched his neck. She could feel his pulse thrumming beneath her fingers. He pulled out of her slowly, and she shuddered at the emptiness he left behind.

"Roll over," he rasped.

When she’d rolled onto her stomach, he grabbed her hips and lifted her into position. She gasped at the sudden shift, and he stroked her red bum to calm her down. Aiming his head into her slick slit, he found her entrance and eased back inside.

Hermione's eyes popped wide as he sank deep. She went up on her hands, whimpering at the fullness. He was hitting things inside her in ways she'd never felt before. "Unh!"

Severus smirked at her wired muscles. Rubbing her lower back with one hand, he restarted his first level of penetration with a deep rocking grind. "How's that? Still your favorite position?"

Hermione clawed the bed and nodded. "Yes, sir!"

He smirked. “Let’s see how you like a little more.” His hand snaked around her hip and trailed down to her clit. Keeping the contact light and intermittent so she didn’t become dependent on it, he gradually teased her right up to the brink of combustion. 

The feeling was intense. The constant rhythmic thrusting was driving her mad. It wasn’t just the fullness, it was the never-ending pressure that seemed to be wrapping her entire pussy in bands of pleasure. She’d never felt anything so unbearably amazing. Her jaw dropped as he knocked it up another notch. Her forehead broke out in sweat, and she was worried her heart was going to pound out of her chest. She’d never worked so hard just staying still before. 

“You’re getting closer,” he rasped, clenching his teeth at the pressure. “Your pussy’s starting to bear down. Don’t fight it. Go with the feeling.”

Her breath kept catching in her throat. He sped up again, and Hermione let out a short sob of desperation. She’d never cried from pleasure before. It scared her a bit. Was she going round the twist? If she didn’t come soon, she was pretty sure insanity was inevitable. Orgasm was all she could think about. He was pumping away the rest of the world one thrust at a time. Her pussy had never felt so tense. Taking a shaky breath, she fought the tears that threatened to spill over.

He knew that sound. She was going to cry. He’d gotten used to the idea over the years. While he'd never spilt tears while in throes of passion, he’d been on the receiving end several times. Some of the witches had told him that they’d never been in that state before, but others said they’d often cry with a deep fucking. And those weren’t witches who were prone to tears; some of them had taken harsh punishments from him in complete silence. Witches were just different that way. They operated on some wavelength he couldn’t tap into. But he’d learned to encourage whatever flowed. A witch who fought her body’s urges was just depriving herself (and him) of some pleasure.

She might not know that though. Keeping his pace steady and strong, he purred a string of gravelly praise at her so she’d let go. “I know,” he murmured. “It’s all right. Crying is a release just like orgasm. You’ll feel better if you let it out.”

How did he know what she was thinking? He couldn’t read her thoughts from behind, could he? Tears coursed down her face. She felt completely barmy. Why was she crying during one of the best nights of her life?

“I know you’re still holding back,” he rumbled. “I told you, I’m here to help you. You want to feel better, don’t you?”

She nodded, her face starting to crumple.

“Aren’t you tired of crying from sadness?” he pressed. “This is your chance to cry for a good reason.”

His encouragement pushed her over. She burst into tears, sobbing out all the tension in her body. He fucked her a little harder, and she shouted as the pressure in her pussy became a hurricane. 

Severus knew she was right on the edge. Her body was bearing down so hard it took some effort to push back into her each time. “You’re going to come any second,” he murmured over her crying. “Just listen to your body. Go with it.”

The need to climax consumed her. Every cell in her body rushed toward that destination. She wasn’t so sure she was going to survive whatever was waiting for her. Most orgasms didn’t arrive on the heels of such overpowering sensation. She could barely breathe. 

Snape listened closely as her sobbing rose in volume. “That’s it. Just relax.”

His hips slapped against her, and her entire core began to tighten. She’d never felt anything so all encompassing. His fingers on her clit vanished, but the pleasure didn't. She wasn’t floating on waves of pleasure, she was being dragged under in a riptide of release. The throbbing pulsed through the center of her body, wringing out her being until she was empty. 

Staring at the bed in a daze, she felt him slowing behind her. She’d shouted her throat raw. Usually after one orgasm, she wanted to go for another one as soon as possible, but the peace radiating through her was the first instance of satisfaction she’d ever experienced. She was sated. It was lovely.

Snape slowed down to a leisurely thrust. It might take her a while to get over that. Her pussy had been thrashing and pulling at his cock so hard he was impressed he hadn’t bitten a hole through his cheek. And those shouts piping from her depths as she came had been tugging on his balls like an invisible hand. He hadn’t had to fight his own body that hard in a long time. 

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.

Hermione was still staring blankly at the bedspread. Her tears had slowed, and she’d stopped sobbing. Her breathing was still shaky though. Wiping her hand over her face, she nodded absently. “Bloody amazing.”

Her voice was calm and serene now. Severus smiled and stroked her hip. “Double chocolate chip amazing?”

Hermione smiled. Swimming in a sea of chocolate was a decent description of how she felt. “Yes. Thank you.”

Holding back a laugh, Severus ran his finger over her lower back. “Are you ready for more?”

“More?” What more was there?

Now that her pussy wasn’t squeezing him like a vice, he could go on for a while longer. “It’ll take a bit of time, but we could do that again if you like.”

Hermione didn’t know if she could go through all that again so soon. “Aren’t you getting tired?”

“I’m fine. Are you tired?”

“I feel bloody brilliant.”

He smirked and drew his fingers over the top edge of her bum. “Then let’s hear you scream for me again. I know what the siren’s song sounded like now.”

Laughing softly, she eased down onto her forearms. His cock hit her at a different angle, and she moaned at the renewed ache inside her. “Do you think anybody else heard me?”

“I put up a Sound Barrier. You’re safe.”

That was smart of him. Hermione rested her forehead on her arms and closed her eyes. Her pussy sounded as if it had overflowed. No one else had ever gotten her that wet before. Usually she only heard that sound when she played by herself. Severus Snape was a surprising and thorough man. Who would have ever guessed that the cold professor who used to roll his eyes every time she raised her hand would be the one to introduce her to such pleasures? 

Snape traced her dark divide with one finger; her back arched, and she sighed softly as he grazed her puckered star. _Are you ready to beg for this now?_ He kept at it, just teasing her with the suggestion. His cock felt strong and at ease inside her. He wasn’t concerned about lasting. Watching her twitch with each pass of his finger was an amusing way to spend his night. “Do you like that, Miss Granger?”

It sounded as if he already knew the answer, so she didn’t deny it. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a sweet little bottom,” he muttered, rubbing over her dark portal. “Tell me what you’ve had in here.”

She was glad he couldn’t see her blushing. “Not much,” she mumbled.

He continued to tickle the entire area. “Has anyone else ever touched you here?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “Not on purpose, sir.”

Severus raised one eyebrow. “Do you mean accidental contact during insertion?”

His words struck her as funny for some reason. “A few of them had directional difficulties.”

He wondered what kind of idiots she’d been sleeping with and then wondered how many of those had really been accidents. “Did they hurt you?”

“It wasn’t pleasant,” she admitted.

He understood why she hadn’t begged for anything yet. “You have to take things slowly with anal play.”

His finger slid down to her perineum and started to massage her. Hermione relaxed into it.

“I promise not to hurt you,” he purred. “Would you like more?”

He circled her backdoor again, making her shiver. “Just one finger?” she asked.

“For now,” he said with a small smile.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. I’ll try it.”

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Now ask me properly. I told you, I only give good girls what they beg me for back here.”

She had no idea what to say (and the continued drive of his cock wasn’t doing anything for her cognitive powers). “Um . . . please use your finger on me?”

Snape bit back his smile. She needed to fully let go to ease her nerves. “MmMm." He shook his head. “That wasn’t what I need to hear. Say ‘I’ve been a good girl, sir; please will you finger my bottom.’”

Hermione’s face went hot. Could he possibly make this any more embarrassing? “I’ve been a good girl, sir. Please will you . . . finger my bottom,” her voice trailed to a whisper.

“Excellent." It was pretty obvious how to get the quickest reaction from her. He kept circling her brown borealis as he considered what else he could make her say. There was no need to try to enter her just yet. She was getting off on just the touch of his fingertip. Her pussy would spasm whenever he stayed right on her rosebud and tickled steadily. 

He waited until she was whimpering and wiggling for more. When she sounded sufficiently needy, he reached around her and got his fingers drenched in her liquid lust. There was plenty to go around. Bringing his fingers back to her cleft, he gently prodded at her opening. Pressure was unnecessary. When his finger stilled right at the threshold, she began to bear down, involuntarily pleading for more. 

“Someone wants her bottom filled,” he murmured.

Hermione was panting so hard by that point she was worried she was going to pass out. “Yes, sir. Me!”

He managed to get himself in check with a few deep breaths and only sounded mildly mirthful as he spoke. “Then I think you can guess what I want to hear from you.”

Begging was much less embarrassing when she was dying for it. “Please finger my bottom, sir. I need it.”

 _I know you do_. Pushing a bit deeper so the first inch of his finger was inside her, he felt her sphincter strangling his digit. The strength of her arse was magnificent. If she kept being such a good girl for him, one day he’d show her what else he could put in there. That would take some stretching, but he’d make her love it just as much. Keeping his cock deep inside her, he gave her a few slow grinds. 

“Unh!” Hermione gulped as he slipped deeper, his finger wiggling inside her as his cock kissed her core.

When he was all the way in her arse, Snape curled his finger back and forth, tickling his cock through her thin inner wall. His hips began to gently thrust again, and he grinned as she clenched the bedspread like a lifeline. “How’s that? Nice?”

Hermione was just about out of her mind. Her own finger never got that deep. It was a new sensation. His renewed thrusting made her eyelids flutter. He wasn’t even doing that much. But it was more than enough. “Yes, sir.”

 _I’ll get you there. Don’t worry._ Her pussy was already starting to twitch around him again, revealing her state of desire with every twinge. When he gave her a few seconds of hard and fast hip action, she let out a long wail of need. _So close._

“Feel that pressure starting again?” he asked, slightly out of breath. “Your pussy’s ready to give me more.”

“Yes, sir.” His finger pressed in even deeper, and she dug her nails into the comforter. He shook his hand against her bum, making her muscles jump and jitter. “Ah!”

Severus slowly turned up the heat over the next several minutes. He kept her right on the edge of simmering, waiting to hear that sob of impending release from her again. 

“Unnnh!”

 _There it is._ Keeping hold of her hip with one hand, he gave her what she needed. He was hissing through his teeth by that point, knowing it was his final showing of the night. His dick was just waiting for him to give in to his balls' persistent pull. 

Just when he was beginning to worry that he was going to lose his mind, her pussy started rippling around him. It was mind-numbingly perfect. Grunting, he slammed into her as he started to come. The tension in his bollocks met its end, erupting out of him like Mount Vesuvius. Her pussy was going to be flooded. Her dying shouts of completion only spurred him to new heights. “Fuck!”

Hermione cried softly into the bed as he finished behind her. Despite her tears (and sore throat) it was the best she’d ever felt. This orgasm had just compounded the last. She was reeling. High. 

She winced when he pulled out. The emptiness was unpleasant after having him inside her for so long. Her pussy felt hollow.

Severus eased his finger from her as gently as possible and then cast a cleansing charm. He was suddenly exhausted. There was a strong urge to just flop down face first and go to sleep. It was getting late. He was usually in bed reading about this time. Running his hands over her bum, he nudged her toward the pillows. “Are you ready for some sleep?”

She turned her head and watched him take the side of the bed to her left. He looked tired. “I need the loo,” she rasped. “And some water.”

He smiled softly and pulled the blankets down so they could go to bed. “Are you all right?”

Hermione nodded and backed off the bed. Her legs were shaky as she made her way to the bathroom. It sounded as if her bladder had been on the verge of bursting when she got to the toilet. Her pussy felt weird—sort of stretchy. She carefully prodded at it as she wiped herself clean. _I’m going to be sore as hell tomorrow._

 _Worth it_ , she thought, smiling to herself. Her hair looked like a train wreck, and her reflection gave her a cheeky grin. Hermione smirked and checked her bum one last time. It was still quite red, and she snickered as her reflection gave it a silent slap. 

Severus set his wand on the nightstand and got under the covers. He couldn’t stop staring at the dark wet spots that marked where they’d been fucking. He sat up and ran his hand over one, his lips twitching into a smirk. The night had gone better than he’d imagined. 

When she came out of the bathroom, he studied her. She looked calm and well-fucked. It was a good look on her. She saw him fingering the damp patches on the bedspread and looked away with a shy smile. 

“You’re not embarrassed by any of this, are you?” he asked.

Hermione went around the bed and climbed in next to him, pulling the covers up over her shoulder as she curled on her side to face him. “I um . . . get really wet sometimes.”

He somehow managed to restrain his snort. “Indeed.” Rolling on his back, he motioned for her to come closer. “You know that’s normal,” he said softly, putting his arm around her shoulders as she rested her head on his chest.

Smiling into his pectoral, she closed her eyes. His approval put her at ease. “I’ve never been that wet with anyone else before.”

He’d guessed that. Hearing confirmation was a nice bonus though. “So I take it you enjoyed the evening?”

Hermione snuggled closer to him as he put out the lights with his wand. “I can’t even tell you how much. This might be the best I’ve felt since I was about sixteen. Did you have a nice time too?”

He smirked into the darkness. “Yes, I did.”

“Thank you for all of this, Severus. I really mean it. Everything you’ve done tonight . . . it was all perfect.”

He closed his eyes, sleepiness settling over him like fog. “Keep being my good girl, and I’ll keep doing what I can.”

He sounded knackered. Hermione placed her hand on his chest and listened to his breathing slow. “Goodnight, Severus.”

“Goodnight, Miss Granger,” he mumbled back.

Hermione wasn’t really tired yet, but she stayed still so he could sleep. It was nice not being alone in the dark. He smelled good too. She was impressed that he was willing to let her lie so close to him. She’d figured he would just roll over and tell her to go to sleep. Maybe he really meant it about giving her what she needed. 

She fell asleep wondering what he needed that she could give him in return.


	4. Try a Little Tenderness

The day was frigid and grey, but Severus felt like a new man. He ducked his head into the whistling wind, smiling to himself behind his high collar. His fireplace had been set to ward itself after he’d used it, so he had to Apparate to the front gates. It was a bitterly cold walk to the castle, and it felt even colder when he remembered how warm she’d been in his arms that morning. He had been worried that things would be awkward between them in the harsh light of day, but she seemed to relish waking up next to him, cuddling in even closer and stroking his chest as if she never wanted to leave.

It had been one of the best mornings of his life. 

She’d asked if it was all right if she wrote him during the week to check in. He'd told her he preferred her letters over Murtlap essays any day. The truth was her letters gave him something to look forward to. They were the bright spot in his day. He kept that bit of information to himself.

He was looking forward to their next meeting. Grown up Granger was much more thought provoking than swotty Granger. She wasn’t the annoying know-it-all she’d been as a student. She was an intelligent woman. Attractive. She might have some deep-seated guilt, but that one shortcoming wasn’t a detraction in his books. It was something he could understand—something they shared. If anything, it endeared her to him more.

She’d taken to his discipline like a Grindylow to water. There had been that one snag concerning her bedtime, but he knew she would go to sleep early that night. She was dying to please him. He had a feeling her desire to impress was heightened because of who he was. There was some secret thrill for her that he was her former professor. Her yearnings to prove herself in school were finding some twisted success all these years later. She wasn’t just getting a dom, she was getting her schoolgirl fantasies complete with built-in professor. Six years of seeking his praise would finally yield the outcome she sought.

Her letters had prepared him for her guilt concerning the war, but he hadn’t foreseen the colossal clusterfuck surrounding her parents. He didn’t know if he could ever ease her mind over such a catastrophe. He’d always just assumed that the Golden Trio were living happily ever after. He didn’t want hear about the amazing Granger and her perfect life. To find her just as damaged as him made him see her in a whole new light. 

She was human, subject to pain and insecurities and self-destruction. Without her overstock of motivation, she might have traveled a much darker road. Work was her Firewhisky. Instead of finding herself at the bottom of a bottle, she’d taken to numbing herself with her career. That wasn’t entirely healthy. She was going to wind up dropping from exhaustion in a few years when her body stopped repairing so quickly. And if they were to continue the route they were going, he needed to be careful or he would wind up becoming her fix. Balance was going to be key with her. 

The sex had been fantastic, but he was most delighted by her enthusiasm. She seemed an odd mixture of experience and naïveté, lust and curiosity. That hand job had been one of the best of his life. And that seemed a strange thing for him to focus on. He couldn’t even remember the last time another witch had performed such an act. And the way she’d licked him—it made his balls twitch just thinking about it. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had more talented witches sucking on his knob, it was that she was so absorbed in it—so fixated on his response. He was touched by her effort.

Sleeping the night with her had been less awkward than he’d anticipated. She’d been perfectly happy to curl up next to him and let him sleep. There was no incessant talking or barrage of questions. Her body was warm and soft. The experience had been much more pleasant than he ever remembered. He’d pulled her to him without giving it much thought. Soothing her had become automatic by the end of the night. But once she was there, with her head on his shoulder, he'd started to wonder if he’d done it for himself. He certainly wasn’t repulsed by the affection as he had been with other lovers. Was it her, or was he just getting old? He’d never heard of any kind of “need to cuddle” accompanying an increase in age. Was he really that different since the war? Had the freedom from possible death snapped his sanity? While everyone else’s life had been damaged by the final battle, his had been liberated. He’d risked his life and come out the other side with nothing left to lose. 

Perhaps that was what had kept him so reclusive after the war. There was a certain safety in his solitude. He’d spent years on the verge of losing everything. It was nice to be in a place where no one could harm him. Answering her ad had been his first act of bravery since the war. If she hadn't responded or decided he wasn’t right for her, he would have been able to just brush it off and move on. It would have been nothing. But now he had something. Something he didn’t want to lose just yet. That worried him. Someone else was in control of his happiness. If she left him, he could always go find another witch; but it wouldn’t be the same. Granger was a good fit for him. They understood each other.

“Al’right there, Perfesser?” Hagrid asked from behind him.

Severus realized he’d been staring at the front doors for several minutes without moving. Turning, he nodded at the half-giant and his slobbering hulk of a dog, Fang II. “Just getting some air.”

Hagrid’s bushy brows rose in surprise, and he looked up at the grey sky. “Well, I hope yeh got all y'needed. Storm’s commin’. Maybe snow.”

Snape pulled open the door. Hagrid was right. Maybe snow. He wouldn’t let down his guard completely. She might leave him stranded in a blizzard one day.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione went home after stopping at the Potter’s to check in with Ginny. They’d had a quick whispered conversation in the kitchen, where Hermione had given her the abbreviated version of the previous night. They had to keep the conversation short. James and Harry were having a rowdy game of horsey rides, and James kept calling for Mummy to come save him. When he saw Hermione, he told her she could be his cowgirl and ride Daddy next. Ginny was snorting into her tea towel for five minutes; Harry managed to rein it in after only two. Hermione told James she had to go home and check on Crookshanks but that they could play next time she came over. He said Crookshanks could come over too; he could be the cow. She kissed him goodbye and promised to suggest it to Crooks later.

She didn't tell James that Crooks was getting too old to play much of anything. Immobile boulder might be his limit. 

Hermione opened her front door and called out, “Crookshanks, I’m home.”

The was no immediate reply, but it took him longer to respond these days.

She found him sprawled out on the kitchen floor in a block of sunlight. “There you are.” Kneeling down, she stroked his bushy fur. “Did you miss me?”

“Maow,” he croaked.

Hermione grinned. “Want some breakfast?” Getting out his food, she refilled his bowl. It wasn’t empty yet, but she could top him off. “You’ll never guess who my pirate really was.”

Crookshanks didn’t seem surprised by her big reveal at all. He ate his food while she spilled out the story in a melodramatic torrent. His ears twitched at the sound of her voice, but when he'd had his fill of Kitty Cuisine, he flopped back down and went to sleep as if he’d been worn out by the excitement of it all. 

Hermione smiled at the soft growly purring that accompanied the rise and fall of his sleepy breathing. He sounded like Snape. She left him to his cat nap and went to get the reports she’d brought from work. Sitting at the table, she flew through them in record time. Apparently sex made her more productive.

She felt too amazing to sit still, so she figured she’d clean the flat. Again. It was a little obsessive, but it would keep her hands busy. She was a bit sore, but that just made her think about Snape while she worked. Her pussy hummed with residual pleasure so that every bend and stretch reminded her of his cock. Cleaning the bathroom floor on her hands and knees brought back memories of being in the same position with him. She could practically feel him inside her again. Her eyes drifted closed, and she didn’t even realize she’d finished the floor until she found herself in the hallway with no more tile to scrub.

She did the kitchen next, mopping a path around Crook’s sleeping body. She kept seeing Snape’s face in the soapy water. He’d actually smiled at her. Had she ever seen him smile before? It was a good look on him. She grinned to herself as she worked. Who would have guessed that her snarkiest professor would be such a boon to her mental state? She was astounded by her own sense of well-being. 

After she cooked the food she needed for the coming week, she made dinner and ate. Then she cleaned up everything all over again.

Running herself a hot bath, Hermione sank into the water. She replayed the way he’d held her after her spanking, hearing the rumble of his voice in her ear assuring her she would be all right. She hadn’t expected him to push so hard about her guilt from the war, but she was impressed that he’d made her feel so much better about things. That man could have saved her years of therapy. She hadn’t abandoned the self-blame or anything, but she did feel considerably lighter. Something had changed in her for the better, and she was so bloody relieved she felt like celebrating.

The bath soothed her tired muscled, but she couldn’t concentrate on her book. Giving up on it, she summoned a quill and some parchment and used her book as a desk. Hermes, her Ministry appointed owl, would take the letter for her when he got home. He was probably out hunting. His perch had been empty when she cleaned his cage that evening. She always kept the back window open for him so he could come and go as he pleased. He was an aloof bird, who made it seem as if she was interrupting his life with her requests for delivery. She had a feeling he was returning to his former owner when he wasn’t sleeping in her mudroom.

_Dear Severus,_

_I know I just saw you this morning and it's probably too soon to write, but I wanted to tell you again how much I appreciate what you did for me. This is the best I have felt in such a long time. My pussy’s all sore, and my bum is still tingling. It’s perfect._

_You’ll be very proud of me. It’s only nine and I’m already taking my bath. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, but I’m going to get out soon and go read until I get groggy._

_Okay, I lied. I’m going to touch myself. I do have a book, but it’s spanking themed (hence the touching). I can’t stop thinking about what you did to me. Not just the sex and the spanking, but the way you took care of me. Just having your dick in my hand made me feel better. Is that strange?_

_I think it’s going to take me the whole week to get my vagina back in working order. I can’t wait for you to destroy it again._

_Hoping for early sleep,_  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Miss Granger,

It’s not too soon. I told you you could write me whenever you like. It certainly made my night more pleasant. 

You don’t need me to be proud of you. You know you’re doing the right thing. I never had any doubt that you would do as I asked. You’re an intelligent witch; you know how important sleep is for your health.

You don’t need to lie about your self-pleasure. I like hearing about it. You are practicing some different positions, aren’t you? Practice makes perfect. 

I’m glad you found our time together so beneficial. As your dominant/lover, your well-being is important to me. Knowing what had the greatest effect on you will help me in the future. And no, it is not strange that you felt better having your hand wrapped around my dick. It’s magical. It has the same effect on me.

If your pussy isn’t better in a couple of days, tell me and I’ll send you something. While I look forward to sinking into your sweet little snatch again, I can’t do so in good conscience if you’re not completely healed from the last time.

I’ll send you some books this evening. They should inspire your nightly date with your fingers.

My first class is about to start. If you don’t hear from me by nine, I’m in the hospital wing having cauldron shrapnel plucked from my scarred body. I don’t think these idiots have made it more than ten days without some kind of explosion. 

—SS

P.S. I am proud of you.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

These books are fabulous. Thank you. 

Did you escape injury today, or did Madam Pomfrey help you send these? I hope you made it through unscathed; I like all your pieces in their original arrangement. 

My vagina was a bit better today. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit or anything. I got a new case at work—domestic violence involving a house-elf. House-elf cases are always hard. They start to think the abuse is part of their job, and they don’t like leaving the family. We’ll do a home visit tomorrow and find out what we’re working with. Hopefully all it will take is a warning. 

I fell asleep last night at about one. It’s almost eleven now, and I promise I’m going to bed right after I send this. Thanks to you I have plenty to read now to pass the time. Crookshanks thinks I’m sick. He keeps walking past my door and eyeing me. I keep telling him I’m fine, but he won’t come in the room till his usual time.

And you were right, it’s hard to climax in positions I’m not used to. I’ll keep trying.

Night,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione,

I managed to avoid the hospital wing. The explosion was nowhere near me. Forgetfulness potions won’t be forgotten anytime soon. The entire dungeon reeks of scorched mistletoe. It’s revolting.

Be careful masturbating until your pussy feels better. No insertion. I’ll have you practice riding once you’ve gotten used to the new positions. Have you tried fingering your bottom when you find it difficult to reach orgasm? It certainly lit a fire under you the other night.

I hope you are successful with your house-elf. Be careful when you go out. Someone who abuses a house-elf is likely to be violent in other aspects of their life. 

Be safe,  
  
Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

You were right about the man we visited today. What an insufferable brute. He had absolutely no remorse about what he’d done. We took the house-elf with us. You could tell he was relived to leave, but he kept trying to harm himself. A mediwitch is looking after him and keeping him sedated until we can work something out.

I do NOT want to send him back to that house, but house-elves are hard to convince even when it’s in their best interests. I told him I could get him a job with a lovely family who wouldn’t beat him and would appreciate his contribution. He was crying and pulling his ears too hard to hear me. Unless we can get his old family to present him with clothes, I don’t think we’ll be able to persuade him to relocate. 

I feel like screaming. Or crying. You should see the marks on him. They’re horrifying. And I know he hits himself after he gets beaten by that awful man. He thinks he’s doing something wrong. But he’s the sweetest thing. He’s literally dying to please that psycho. Maybe I should just take him to the replacement family’s house and let him meet them. They’re a perfect fit. They’d treat him like one of their own. 

It’s 11:30 and I’m not in bed yet. But I’m going as soon as I write this. I didn’t fall asleep until sometime after 12:45 last night. (That was the last time I checked the clock.) I’m worried I’m not going to be able to sleep. I’m going to have nightmares about that bastard’s cocky smile when we told him we were taking his elf. I think he wanted to smack me across the room. I wish he would have tried something. I’ve got a Shielding Charm that would have knocked him through the wall. (And if he'd attacked me, he'd be sitting in Azkaban, and that elf would be safe.)

I wish you were here right now. I’m all tense and angry. I’m going to go rub my clit until it falls off. Maybe that’ll calm me down. 

I need to see you soon,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Miss Granger,

The soonest I can meet you is Friday evening. So unless you want to everyone to see you coming and going from my rooms, you need to find a way to put that anger to good use and then let go of it. Anger is not bad; it tells us what things need to be changed and gives us the fire to do so. But letting it leech into the rest of your life is not healthy. (Trust me, I have firsthand knowledge of this.)

You haven’t been disobedient, but you allowed your day to augment your plan to adjust your sleeping. You were on your way to going to bed at a decent hour, but last night you went in the wrong direction. That is not acceptable. I expect you to be in bed by 11:15 at the latest. 

Tonight, before you go to sleep, I want you to lie quietly for ten minutes (or longer) and think about being over my knee. This isn’t a punishment. I want you to imagine every step in detail: you asking for your spanking, me taking down your knickers, you getting over my lap, my hand on your backside. Use your overactive brain to picture it all. I know you’ll find it arousing, and that’s fine; but I want you focusing on that scene. If your mind wanders to other thoughts, let them go and return to your spanking. 

Taking out your frustrations on your poor defenseless clitoris is no way to solve the problem (and I would miss it terribly). Don’t punish yourself. That’s my job. 

Your story about your case is a sad one. I have no patience for witches or wizards who demonstrate no control. That man is a monster, and I hope you did not visit his home on your own. (Are you under any kind of protection?) House-elves are a complicated breed. I don’t know if introducing him to another family would work or not. He won’t be able to stop thinking about his “real” family until all ties are severed and clothing is presented. And even then it will take some time for him to transition to the idea of serving others. 

I hope the parallels of that elf’s self-blame and your own psychological issues are not lost on you. I’m relieved you’re angry at the right person this time.

Go to bed,

Severus

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

I’ll do what you asked me to tonight before I go to sleep. It’s only 10:30 now. I’ll be in bed before eleven. I‘m starting to lose my spanking mojo. Today was not good. Barnabas, the house-elf, was so distraught they had to sedate him again. I’m scared we’re going to have to take him back to that frightful house. He told me (before slamming his head into the wall) that the abuse has been going on for years. Seeing him fight to stay miserable is heart-wrenching.

Maybe you’re right about me being similar to him. I would never stay with an abusive man, but he does blame himself for things that are beyond his control. I hope you never have to hold me down and sedate me because I’m mad with guilt and trying to rip off my own ears. 

I do want to see you Friday evening. I have to go to a formal dinner at the Ministry that night, so I won’t have long. But if you have the time, I need something. I’m not sure what. I can see you all day on either Saturday or Sunday. Or both. 

My pussy seems better. I haven’t tried to put anything in there yet, but it doesn’t ache anymore. 

I promise I’m being good. 

Please help me,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Hermione,

I know you’re being good. There was never any question of that. I'll help you in whatever way I can. Just tell me what you need. The time and place are completely up to you. You can come here, or I can come to your flat; or we can go to The Leaky Cauldron again if you like. If you need to be somewhere later, it would probably be best to use your flat. 

I'm pleased you're asking for help. It's good that you know your limits. I understand that you're worried about Barnabas, but your own sanity should take precedence. 

My last class on Friday ends at 3:45. 

Let me know how much time we'll have together.

—Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

I felt a little better after I thought about you spanking me like you asked me to. I came several times afterward and then went to sleep. My fingers pale in comparison to your tongue. I miss your face between my thighs.

I'll be home from work at 5:30 on Friday. But I have to leave at seven for the dinner. Harry is coming over to take me, and I have to get ready before he gets here. That doesn't leave us a lot of time. Maybe 45 minutes. Maybe less. I have no idea what I need. Maybe I just need to see you. Is that okay? 

I miss you,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione,

I'll be at your door at 5:30. I'm looking forward to seeing you too.

Until later,  
  
Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione dashed from the Apparition point through the street toward her flat. Even from a distance, she could see his black shadow at her doorstep. Her heart leapt immediately into overdrive. She was so relieved to see him. Quickening her step, she almost jogged the rest of the way.

"You're here," she said with a smile as she came down the walk.

He took in her frazzled appearance. She looked worn out but happy to see him. "I said I would be."

"Come in," she said, unlocking the door. "Just give me a minute to change my clothes."

Severus followed her into her tiny flat. She hadn't been exaggerating about its size or its cleanliness. She set all her things down next to the door and hung up her cloak. Catching her wrist, he stopped her before she could bustle off to her room. She blinked up at him as he pulled her closer.

Hermione stared into his eyes. It felt as if he were scanning her soul. She was penetrated to the core, and he wasn't even inside her. He wrapped his arms around her, and Hermione leaned into his chest, sinking into his embrace. A sense of peace settled over her like a beam of light, easing her back from the sharp edge of anxiety. She pressed her nose to his itchy frock coat and took a deep breath. He smelled like cauldrons and sex. It made her calm and horny all in one breath.

Severus wasn't fooled by her smile. She was running on empty. Her smart business suit and Ministry robes didn't mask the nervous determination rolling off her like musk. Either this house-elf case was wearing her thin, or she'd previously been so high on adrenaline with him that he'd missed how tired she was. Her arms tightened around him, squeezing his kidneys into his lungs. He was surprised how much he fancied the rearrangement.

"You don't need to change," he told her. "You look fine. Unless by change you meant take off all your clothes."

Hermione smiled. "I really just wanted the loo. Do you want me take off all my clothes?"

His lips twitched, and he ran one hand down her back. "Inspections _are_ done in the nude. Go ahead. I'll let you get settled. Call me when you're ready."

Hermione nodded and forced herself let go. She headed to the bathroom, intending to take the world's fastest shower before they went any further. 

Severus watched her go then removed his cloak and hung it next to hers. He did a slow walk around her flat, discovering her sparkling kitchen and the rest of the front room in less than thirty seconds. She could probably give him a guided tour in under one minute. There were several pictures of a middle-aged couple on the wall, and he guessed they were her parents. The woman looked vaguely like Hermione, and the man had her hair color. They seemed nice. Happy. He wondered how long they'd been married. In the pictures closest to the kitchen, Hermione at various ages was posing with them, hugging them, opening presents some Christmas morning, riding a bike as her father ran along side her. They looked like a typical family. Severus had no idea what that was like. He would have killed for typical as a child.

An orange tumbleweed appeared at the kitchen door. Severus raised one eyebrow as the wizened feline stared him down. Wasn't that her cat when she was at school? How could that thing still be alive? It had to have some magical blood in it. “Crookshanks, I presume."

Crookshanks slowly circled him, never looking away. Snape started to feel as if he were on trial again. The cat came a little closer, sniffing his boots. After one final discerning glare, Crookshanks meowed at him. Severus was surprised dust didn't puff out of its mouth with the sound. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the cat was rubbing against his leg, purring like an antique motor. Apparently he'd been deemed acceptable.

"He likes you," Hermione said from behind him.

"What a relief," he replied dryly, turning to find her in a maroon bathrobe. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Let's go to my bedroom. There's more space in there."

 _Thank heavens_. He could scarcely breathe, and he didn't want the kitty Wizengamot for an audience. “Lead the way.”

He followed her down the short hall to her room. The walls were a soft lilac, and the bedspread was a nice white eyelet design. Everything was at right angles and there wasn’t a thing left sitting out except a book on the white lacquered nightstand. Now he would have a much more accurate image when he pictured her rubbing her clit at night. The bed was lower to the ground than his, but it would make sitting on the edge easier. She had floaty curtains up over the window, and she had a window shade she could pull down at night. The decor was feminine but in a way that didn’t make him want to retch. 

Hermione watched his face closely as he took in their surroundings. She’d never really thought about Severus Snape visiting her bedroom. He stuck out like a coal-darkened sore thumb. His face revealed nothing. He might like her room; he might hate it. Just when she was about to invite him to sit on the bed, he turned to her and pulled her to stand directly in front of him. His eyes burned into hers just like before, and Hermione swallowed hard, hoping to dislodge the ball of nerves stuck in her throat. Never breaking eye contact, he slid his hands to her waist and began to untie the sash of her robe. Her stomach quivered. Being undressed by Severus Snape was quite an experience. She wished she had on more so he’d have to keep going.

Severus eased her robe off her shoulders and let it pool on the floor. She was bare underneath, and he peripherally ogled her as he stared into her eyes. She was nervous but willing. He liked that she was so ready to let him take over, but he didn’t want her to be anxious. The whole point of him coming over was to help her feel better. He slid his hand along the side of her face, hoping his touch would calm her as it had before. “I want you on the bed on your hands and knees. I know you're ready to show me that naughty little bottom again.”

She was more than ready. She dashed to the bed and spread her legs so he could see everything. 

Snape smiled softly at her eager display. He carefully ran his hands over her bum, checking to see how she had healed. Her skin seemed to be back to normal, no visible discoloration. “Very nice, Miss Granger. How does your pussy feel?”

Hermione squirmed as he gently parted her labia. Cool air breezed over her dampening slit. “It feels fine, sir.”

Severus held back his grin. She’d fallen right back into character, calling him sir without any prompting. That gave him a clue to what she needed. “Let’s see that little bottom hole. Did you get nice and clean in the shower?”

Hermione’s face went hot with embarrassment as he spread her cheeks. She could feel his eyes running over her backdoor. “Yes, sir.”

“It looks as if you scrubbed it raw.”

“You said you wanted it clean.”

He smirked. “There are spells for such things. But I like your effort. This is adorable.” 

Hermione almost jolted off the bed when he placed a soft kiss to the top of her crack, his nose sending a ghost of air over her tailbone. Goose pimples sprang up along the backs of her legs.

“Just relax,” he murmured. 

Couching down, he held her open and inspected her clit. Gently pulling back the prepuce, he smirked at her swelling bulb. He wanted to lick that little nub until she screamed his name. _All in good time_. Spreading her inner petals so he could see her entrance, he checked for himself that she was completely healed. “Everything looks satisfactory.”

She’d never had her pussy described as satisfactory. _Is that an insult or a compliment?_  

“I want you to stand up and look me in the eye,” he said quietly. “Let me sit down.”

Hermione edged off the bed and watched him take a seat. He spread his legs and took her hand, pulling her into his personal space. 

When she was looking in his eyes, Snape murmured, “I know what you need, but I want you to think about it for yourself. You should always be aware of your needs. They can’t be met if you're not conscious of them.”

“Anything?”

His lips twitched. “Anything.”

“I’d like it if you spanked me . . . but not hard, just enough to warm me up. But I’d also like you to hug me again.”

She needed a bit more than that. Putting his hands on both her hips, he pulled her flush against him so her chest was in his face. Kissing the valley in the center, he murmured into her soft skin, “Do we have forty minutes?”

Hermione checked the clock, shivering as he nuzzled the side of her right breast. “Yes, sir.”

“Then I think you’d better ask me properly and get over my knee so we can start.”

Her mouth went dry. For some reason asking for a spanking was so much harder than anything else even though it was what she wanted most. Her voice wavered, "Please, sir, I need you to put me over your knee and spank my bare bottom. I didn’t do anything wrong, so I guess I just need it for maintenance.”

Severus smiled. She’d remembered everything he’d told her last time about altering her request. “That was perfect, Miss Granger. If you’re not being punished for anything, the reason is simply because you need it. All right, get over my knee. But first, hand me that slipper.”

Hermione looked over at her fuzzy slippers just barely peeking from beneath the bed. The man had eyes like a hawk. She bent over and picked up the left one, smiling as his hand ghosted over her bum. The slipper’s sole was thicker and rubberier than she’d ever noticed before. 

Snape took it from her and set it on the bed. “One leg on either side of mine, just like last time.”

She straddled his leg and settled into place, facing the pillows at the head of the bed. He wrapped one arm around her waist and smoothed his hand over her backside. He started immediately, smacking her bum so lightly she could barely feel it. Slowly, the strength built, and he fell into an easygoing rhythm. The steady beat lulled her into a hazy world of stinging slaps and creaming sex.

Severus watched her hips writhe and buck against his leg as she whimpered out soft mews of contentment. The slaps might sting, but she wasn’t in pain. He would use both the clock and the deepening pink of her cheeks to determine when he was done. Right. Left. Right. Left. The entire surface of her wiggling backside turned the most lovely shade. It complemented the decor.

Silent tears leaked down Hermione's face. She wasn’t sobbing or anything, but her eyes were overflowing as if her body had hit a release valve. Crying while relaxed was a totally bizarre experience. Almost as strange as when she’d cried during sex. 

Severus stopped after five minutes and rubbed her bum, using both hands to spread her open. He could smell her even before he saw the liquid lining her cranny. “I can see how much you love my hand, but it’s time for the slipper.”

A finger slipped inside her, and Hermione gasped at the sensation. He pulled out and went down to tickle her clit. Pleasure bolted through her, and she groaned and bucked into his palm.

“That’s it,” he rumbled. “Let me see that pussy shine.”

He picked up the slipper and held it by the heel, smacking his hand once to test the sting. “This is nice.” 

He tapped the curve of her backside with the flat rubber sole. A muted, hollow pop sounded with the first hit. She moaned and ground her pussy into his knee. Each new lick brought a louder moan and a more furious undulation. Her cheeks wobbled and twitched. He fell into a trance watching her dance.

The heat in her rump raced through her body, searching for an outlet. Her pussy knew just where to let off some steam. The faster he slapped her, the faster her pelvis ground into his leg. The heat and friction all built to a crescendo, and she gasped as her pussy spasmed in defeat, washed away in a tidal wave of fire. “Unnnnnh!”

Snape smirked at how easily she'd come. When she went still, he set the slipper on the bed and gently rubbed her soaked slit. His fingers were drenched. “It seems you're just as fond of the slipper as you are of my hand.”

Hermione could hear the grin in his words. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But we’re not done here yet. Keep those legs spread.”

He slid two fingers into her juicy folds and started to pump slowly in and out. Her channel was snug around his fingers, her interior swollen with excitement. He turned slightly to get a better angle and curled his fingers against the bumpy patch along the front wall. A loud sloshing belied her readiness for more. “Just relax.”

Hermione forced her body to stop clenching. The pressure inside her was uncomfortably full. He started to seriously stroke her, and her eyes leaked in time with her pussy. “Mm-m-m-m!”

“I know,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

His fingers curled faster, and her abdominals flexed in an involuntarily spasm. He kept going, giving her no chance to breathe. “Sir!”

He stroked her side. “It’s all right. Let it out.”

She came hard, her entire body convulsing and going rigid. The relief was mind-numbing. 

Severus smiled as she came again. His trousers were going to be drenched. _Give me more, little girl._ He wanted a tactile reminder of her surrender all over his leg. 

“That’s it,” he purred.

Hermione’s body went limp. All the anger and tension had been wrung out of her. “Thank you, sir.”

He pulled his fingers from her honeypot and licked them clean. His eyes closed in delight. _We have got to see each other more often._ When his hand was clean, he set it on her round backside and patted her cheek. “That was excellent, Miss Granger. Come up here and sit in my lap.”

Hermione got her loose limbs to work with her, and she climbed up and curled into his lap, keeping her burning bum hanging off to the side. She could feel a wet patch on his trousers where she’d leaked all over him. Her face flamed, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her even closer, keeping her in place.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“About what?”

“Your trousers.”

He chuckled and brushed his cheek against her forehead. “They’re fine. I told you, I love seeing you soaked.”

Hermione smiled and put her arms around him. He really meant that. 

“Now, we have seventeen more minutes until you have to go get ready,” he told her. “I want you to tell me how your day was.”

Hermione sighed and absently stroked the scars on his neck. “Not good. Barnabas begged us to take him back home. He didn’t want to meet the Flimpett family at all.”

Snape closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to keep himself in check. Her soft petting was going straight to his cock. “Did you take him back?”

“No. We talked him into waiting one more day.”

“Have you looked to see if his owner has a record? Maybe there’s something else he could be taken in for that would keep him out of the picture.”

“I was going to ask Harry about that tonight.”

“If he’s abusing his house-elf, his wife and children probably aren’t safe.”

“She already left him. She’s the one who filed the original report.”

He nodded, blowing one of her curls out of his face. “I know you’re concerned about Barnabas, but there’s only so much you can do in this situation. If he wants to go home, you can’t keep him locked up like a prisoner.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I feel bad about that part, but I’m going to do whatever I can to keep him safe.”

“You need to keep yourself safe too. You’re making an enemy of that man.”

“We always make visits in teams. Herbert Harbinger is working with me on this.”

“What does he think you should do about all this?”

“Take Barnabas to another country.”

“That won’t work. He’s not a stray dog; he can find his way back.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I want you to keep up the nightly spanking imagery. You need to let go of the day when it ends.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, pressing her nose to his neck so she could smell him. “Yes, sir.”

He squeezed his eyes tight, fighting off the twinge in his balls as she breathed on his throat. “Each night, I want you to lie over a stack of pillows so your bottom is propped up high while you think about me spanking you. Put another pillow between your legs. Your pussy will help keep your mind focused.”

She squirmed in his lap, said pussy leaking out its warm appreciation. “Yes, sir.”

“Does the prolonged reflection each night leave you wet?”

“Yes, sir.”

He turned his head so his lips were on her ear. “Does it make you come?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, shivering in his arms.

“Did your spanking today make you feel better?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Were you crying from the orgasm or the spanking?”

“The spanking, sir.”

“Was it too much?”

“No. I just . . . I don’t know . . . couldn’t help it.”

Snape stroked her back and pulled her closer. “I know,” he whispered. “Did crying make you feel better?”

“Um . . . I think so, sir.”

“Good. Is there anything that’s bothering you that you would like to tell me about?”

Hermione took a deep breath, savoring his scent. “Were you angry when I told you I didn’t go to bed early enough that one night?”

“Trust me, you would know if I was angry.”

“You addressed the letter before it Hermione, but then you went back to Miss Granger.”

He’d done that on purpose. She didn’t miss a trick. “Yes, I did. I wanted to make sure you knew how serious I was. I didn’t want you backsliding. One night of lax rule bending can lead to abandoning the rules altogether.”

“I felt bad about it."

He managed not to laugh out loud. "I guessed that. You went to bed at an acceptable time the next night, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then just don't let it happen again. You admitted the mistake immediately and took every necessary step to rectify it. What we just did here was enough of a correction."

 _That was a correction?_  

"What time will you be in bed tonight?"

"Um . . . I was planning to be in bed by eleven."

"That's excellent, Miss Granger. Are you falling asleep a bit earlier yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then keep up what you're doing. We'll discuss any other behavior you need to change when I see you tomorrow."

"Are we going to have sex?"

"Not right now. We'll have time tomorrow if you need it."

"I need it," she assured him.

Severus smirked and kissed the top of her head. Sliding his hand from her back to her bum, he patted her warm cheeks. "I want you nice and clean when I see you tomorrow. You'll find the appropriate spell for it in that book I sent you on anal play."

Hermione blushed as he tickled between her cheeks. "Yes, sir."

"You enjoyed having my finger in your bottom last week, did you not?"

She didn't think it was possible for her face to get any hotter. "Yes, sir."

"Well if you're going to keep being such a good girl, I need that hole clean so I can properly meet your needs."

"What about you?"

"My arse is extremely clean."

She grinned. "No, I meant, what can I do to help you?"

"We've discussed this before. You don't need to do anything except what I ask you to do."

"Is that really why you meet with me? You get off on my obedience?"

Snape sighed and thought about his reply. "There are many reasons I agreed to this. I wrote you regarding some of those reasons. Your obedience _is_ attractive to me, and I do get off on it to some degree. But . . . . Have you ever done something that filled an empty spot in your life, something that made you feel complete when you were doing it?"

She knew what he meant. If she couldn't help disadvantaged creatures, her life would feel empty. But for some reason, the way he worded it made her immediately think about the last time he'd shagged her. That had made her feel complete. She didn't know if sex should count; he seemed to be referring to something less tangible. "Yes, sir."

"Well, for me, that emptiness is only silenced when I'm matched with someone who shares my tastes. I need to hear that ‘yes, sir’ as much as you need to say it. I don't have any desire to run someone else's life. I have been in intense master and slave relationships, and I did not enjoy it. It took me years to figure out that guiding someone and ruling someone are very different things. I haven't always been as calm as I am with you. That is a new development, which I'm still adjusting to. But I still crave your submission. Does that make things any clearer for you?"

"Yes, sir. What did you used to be like?"

He didn't know if he should tell her. He wanted her to trust him not fear him. "You had me for a teacher. You know what I was like. Just add a cane and restraints and you'll have a fair idea."

"I can't imagine anyone ever pleased you."

Snape snorted softly. "I was rather demanding."

"I'm glad you're calmer now. You're easier to talk to."

“I tend to find some new reserve of patience where you're concerned. I don't know if that's influenced by the nature of our relationship or if it has something to do with your desire to please me. I think if you were difficult or less disciplined, I'd be sick of you already. I put up with that kind of mindless defiance all day. But," he added, holding her tighter so she wouldn't get the wrong idea, "you're not like that at all. You're intelligent and kind, eager to show me your best. That's all I need from you. If you knew how rare those things were in the world, you would understand why I value our time."

"I understand. I'm glad you're here too."

He couldn't remember ever hearing that before. "Are you feeling better now, Miss Granger? You don't sound nearly as tense as you did when you arrived."

"I guess your hugs are as magical as your dick."

Laughing loudly, Snape put one hand to her thigh. "Would you like me to stay while you get ready?"

"Sure."

"Why don't you show me what you're going to wear."

Hermione smiled and climbed out of his lap. She pulled her best blue dress robes from the closet and held it up in front of her. "What do you think?"

"It's lovely. But you look better in green."

"All Slytherins say that."

"I'm just being honest. Green brings out your hair."

"Really?" she said, looking toward the mirror on the inside of the door.

"Yes. And Slytherins don't own green. It's just a color. Minerva wears green all the time."

She nodded. "Okay. I'll try it. Will you change the color for me? I need to figure out which bra won't show at the neckline."

He took it from her and hung it on the back of her bedroom door. Running his wand down the flowing material, he transformed it from sapphire blue to forest green. It already looked better. He went to her side, peeking over her shoulder into her drawer. "Is that a suspender belt?"

Smiling, she nodded. "Yes."

"Wear it."

Hermione laughed. "No, thank you. I hate messing with it every time I have to use the loo."

"I believe we've discussed this before. Just don't wear any knickers."

"Severus! I'm going to a Ministry dinner not a night club."

He pressed his body into hers, sliding his hand around her waist and grinding into her lower back. "Do it for me. I want to think about you shaking everyone's hand and sitting through the main course wearing only that suspender belt and your stockings. I'd think with your bum being so warm, you'd want to let it breathe tonight."

She smirked up at him over her shoulder. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. And don't clean up. I want you going out with your juice all over your thighs and your pussy smelling like pussy."

Her face flamed, but she smiled. She'd never had a man who enjoyed the products of her arousal to such a degree. It was making her wet again just hearing him talk about it. "Black stockings?"

He smiled and nodded. Sliding his fingers around to her muff, he teased the top of her slit. "Go put on everything but your dress and then come back and show me."

Hermione couldn't stop grinning. "Okay. I'll have to do my hair and makeup while I'm in there."

"I'll entertain myself until you return."  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione checked herself one last time in the mirror. She had on her black pushup bra. It was a bit more cleavage than she usually displayed at dinner, but Snape had left her in a sensual mood. She'd done her makeup, giving herself a toned-down version of her sexy cat eye look. Her lips had a light berry stain of gloss that would look nice with her dress. She'd piled her hair on top of her head, and it had miraculously gone well and gotten pinned before falling apart. Her suspender belt matched her black bra and stockings, and she turned around to check out her bum. It was still very pink from Snape's "help," and she poked one cheek to see it change colors. _Pretty_.

"Are you still awake in there?" she called across the hall.

"On the edge of my seat," he drawled.

She appeared in the doorway, and Snape’s cock twitched at the sight of her. "You should just wear that."

Hermione burst out laughing. "I don't need a raise that desperately."

He got off the bed and walked around her. "You look delicious."

"Thank you." Hermione gathered up robes and carefully stepped into them. She slipped her arms in the sleeves and turned her back to him. "Would you get my zip?"

Snape moved in close behind her and drew his finger up her spine as he slowly zipped her. He watched her in the mirror, taking in the full picture. The bodice was fitted, the neckline plunging low between her breasts. "Where did you get this?"

"It was a gift from Madam Malkin. You should see all the stuff Harry got."

He rolled his eyes. 

"He auctioned most of it off for charity. We all did."

"But you kept this one?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have anything to wear to things like this." She went to the jewelry box on the dresser and took out a simple teardrop necklace and earrings. They were the only black jewelry she owned. Poking the earrings through her ears, she looked at him in the mirror. She couldn't quite identify the expression on his face. 

He'd never really watched a woman get ready to go out. It was an elaborate production. His most assiduous preparations took maybe a quarter of that time. But the final results spoke for themselves. She looked outstanding while he looked merely presentable.

The glint from her necklace drew his eye to the soft slope of her chest. He wanted to lay her down and press his cheek to her heart, use her breast as his pillow. He would sleep like a rock with that kind of bedding. 

"Another gift?" he asked, nodding at the necklace.

Hermione turned the chain so the catch was behind her and then made sure the stone wasn't crooked. "No. It belonged to my mother's mother. It's all I have left of her."

Severus put his hand on her silky shoulder. He didn't mean to bring up any painful memories. "It looks lovely on you."

She smiled. "Thank you, Severus. Well, I guess I'm ready. Harry should be here in a few minutes."

"I should go. I'm not in the mood to explain my presence . . . or why you smell so enticing."

Hermione whipped around, her eyes wide. "Can you really smell me?"

He smirked at her panicked expression. "Calm down. I was just teasing. Someone would have to get under your skirt and bury their face in your snatch to smell you. So unless you're going out with a pack of dogs, you should be fine."

She relaxed a little.

Severus drew his fingers over the bare skin of her breastbone, tracing around her pendant. "Be good tonight. Don't let this be an excuse to go to bed late."

Hermione nodded. "I won't. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Just send me an owl when you're ready. I don't have to chaperone the Hogsmeade trip, so I'm free all day."

"Okay. Will you sleep here?"

"We'll see. If it's what you need, I'll figure out something."

She smiled. "Thank you, sir."

Severus kissed her forehead and then turned for the door before he got too distracted by her. She followed him down the short hall, and her orange cat meowed at them from the kitchen door where it was propped up like the Sphinx, keeping watch over the tiny front room. Those yellow eyes followed his departure with a scrutinizing sharpness that made him uncomfortable. 

She opened the door and looked about. "All clear."

"See you tomorrow," he said softly, pulling on his cloak.

She smiled and nodded. "Thank you for coming over, Severus. I really needed this."

He smiled and touched her neck one last time. "Have a nice night.” He started down the walk then turned and smirked. “Will Bill be there tonight?”

“I don't think so. Why?”

He grinned and made a show of sniffing the air. “If you see him just . . . try to keep your knees together.”

She blushed but shook her head, snickering at his roguish parting smile. “Very funny.”

Hermione watched him disappear down the street, wishing she could go to the dinner with him. Closing the door, she turned to Crookshanks. "Well, what do you think of him?"

Crookshanks wobbled to a stand and stretched his back legs. "Mawor."

"I know, I know. But he's not like that anymore."

Crookshanks came over and leaned against her legs; she reached down to stroke his back. "I know you liked him. I saw you rubbing him. He smells good too, doesn't he?"

Crookshanks made a show of sniffing her leg.

"Stop. You're making me paranoid. You don't really think anyone can smell me, do you?"

He seemed to shrug, and then sank down to the carpet and began to lick his back paw.

There was a knock at the door. 

"That's Harry. I've got to go. I'll be back a little later." She gave him one last scratch behind the ear.

Harry grinned at her when she opened the door. "Blimey, Hermione. You look great."

"Thanks, Harry. You too." 

Harry nodded at the cat. "See you, Crooks. Don't wait up."

Hermione pulled on her nice cloak. "Is Ginny meeting us there?"

"Yeah. She had to take James over to Molly's. She's watching all the kids tonight."

"Okay. I think I'm ready," she said, stashing her wand in her clutch. 

Harry waited for her to lock the door then gave her his arm as they started down the walk. 

"When's Ron coming home?" she asked, slipping her hand around his elbow.

"Cannons play the Tornados tomorrow. He'll probably be back by the next day." He looked around as if searching for someone. "I swear I saw Snape on my way here," he muttered. "Maybe I'm having flashbacks."

Hermione smiled at his joke. "Maybe."  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus was just leaving the Great Hall's breakfast commotion when an owl swooped down and dropped a bit of parchment in his lap. Hermione's handwriting, disfigured by haste, was scrawled haphazardly across the center.

_Severus,_

_Barnabas has gone missing. Herbert and I are heading the search. Can we meet tomorrow? I'm so sorry to bail on you like this._

_—Hermione_

Severus folded the parchment and tucked it into his pocket. He had a bad feeling about Barnabas.


	5. I Just Want Your Extra Time and Your . . . Kiss

Severus,

I'm home. Please come over when you can.

Hermione  
  
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Severus went to Minerva and asked her to find someone to cover his rounds for the night. He refused to say where he was going, and he suspected Minerva was fearing the worst when it came to his absence. Her disapproving gaze did nothing to dissuade his determination to leave. Once she agreed to find a replacement for his dungeon duty, he was gone without a backward glance. 

He was worried about Hermione. Her letters were usually chatty and warm, but that last note had been distant and cold. He was in his traveling cloak and striding across the grounds toward the gates in less than five minutes. He Apparated to an alley near her flat and took to the streets, brushing past slower pedestrians in his hurry to see her.

Severus knocked on her door and then quickly smoothed down his hair and straightened his clothes. The door opened, and he could tell immediately she’d been crying. Although her face was dry, her eyes and nose were still red.

Hermione didn’t know just seeing him at her door would quell the deranged beast inside her. She barely gave him a chance to come inside before she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest.

Severus was taken aback by her wordless welcome, but he couldn’t deny that he’d been just as eager to have her in his arms again. He was more than a little disturbed by that revelation, but there was no hesitation as he held her just as tightly. It was as if someone had thrown a switch inside him; all thoughts of school quieted as soon as he saw her. Her embrace smothered the dull colors from his life.

“What is it?” he murmured, resting his cheek on top of her head. “Is Barnabas still missing?”

She nodded. “Yes.” Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “I’m so scared for him.”

That was the difference between them. She worried about everyone and everything, he was concerned only for her. Her ability to care so deeply was one of the reasons he trusted her as much as he did. “Why don’t we sit down.”

Hermione nodded and took his cloak for him. His arm went right back around her shoulders, pulling her to him as they settled on the sofa. His frock coat irritated her skin, but she leaned her head against him anyway. His other hand reached over and covered hers, stopping her from picking apart the edge of her fingernail.

“Tell me,” he said softly. “What’s happened?”

She squeezed her eyes tight so they’d stop prickling. “All his things were gone. He just packed up and ran away.”

Severus wouldn’t say what they both already knew. Barnabas had probably gone home.

“There’s no sign of him anywhere.” Tears leaked from beneath her lids.

He stroked her head as she took a shaky breath.

“We spent all day yesterday searching.”

She started to cry, and he pulled her closer. “It’s all right.”

He didn’t have much stake in Barnabas’s whereabouts, but he cared because she cared. She’d had enough painful losses in her life. Saving this house-elf meant everything to her. She may not realize it, but she was still fighting the final battle. There was some part of her that believed if she saved this one elf, she might be redeemed for the deaths of her friends. He had a feeling she thought that about every case she was given.

Hermione cried on his shoulder for the next twenty minutes. She hated crying. There had been times in her life where she’d cried every single day, and she was tired of it. But having him there stroking her head and whispering that she’d be all right left her sobbing like a baby. He was the first person to really take care of her since the war. Sure she’d been healed by mediwitches and she talked to people who cared about her emotionally, but no one ever just held her while she bawled. He wasn’t really doing anything except being there. But that was monumental when she thought about who he was. And it meant so much to her.

Severus sat quietly while she cried. Usually he couldn’t wait to get away from tearful witches, but this was entirely different. She’d come to him for discipline and affection. He’d signed up for it. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To prove his humanity? To connect with another person? This level of emotional involvement was new and strange to him, but he thought he was handling it well. It wasn’t a strain to sit on her couch with his arm around her. It was actually rather pleasant. It would have been better if she wasn’t crying, but he liked that she felt comfortable enough with him to be so open.

When she was finally still and quiet, Severus brushed back her hair and tipped up her chin so he could clean off her face with his wand. “Feel better?”

She nodded. “Yes. Thank you for coming over, Severus.”

"How did you sleep last night?" he asked softly.

"Not well," she admitted. "I was in bed by eleven, but I was too sick to sleep."

He could tell she was on her last leg. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I had a sandwich earlier. I’m not hungry.”

“All right.” He kissed her forehead. “Then let’s just stay right here for a while.”

“On the sofa?”

“Are you uncomfortable?””

“No.”

“Do you need to be somewhere?”

She smiled. “No.”

“Is there something else you need from me right now?”

Hermione didn’t want to move from that spot. “No. I want to stay right here.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “Good.”

She ran her fingers over the buttons of his frock coat. “I am getting face burn though.”

Severus nodded with a small smirk. Using his wand, he unbuttoned his coat, and she helped him pull it off. It was much cooler in just his black dress shirt; he’d been getting awfully warm with her pressed up against him the way she was. “Better?”

She smiled and rested her head on him again. “Much.”

Severus fancied it too. She was like a little bluebell flame pressed into his side. She curled into him, and he melted into her warmth even more. He’d come over to help her, but he was experiencing a great deal of relief himself.

Hermione closed her eyes and slid her arm around his waist. For such a bony man, he was certainly nice to lie against. She could get used to this.

Severus spent the next forty minutes lost in the full Hermione experience. Her curly hair tickled his face, but he was grateful for it. When was the last time anyone’s hair had tickled his face? Her curls smelled of apples, and he kept burying his nose in her hair to get another hit. That was his reward for venturing out of the dungeons: downy warm bookworms who smelled of apple orchards and sex. Her fuzzy pink jumper was soft as a baby chick. He couldn’t stop petting her. 

Hermione blinked her eyes open. She was getting groggy from his slow stroking. Lifting her head, she looked up at him. His eyes seemed much more peaceful than she ever remembered. They weren’t piercing her, they were sucking her in. He lifted his hand, and his fingertips grazed her cheek. She leaned into his touch, silently asking for more.

He couldn’t believe how bloody soft her skin was. And her lips . . . .  He ran his thumb over the lower one, noting the subtle change in texture. Her mouth was a wonder of juicy enticement. He had the sudden urge to press his lips to hers, but he didn’t know if he should. Kissing her brow and hugging her very clearly fell under the category of affection, but snogging was most definitely romance. He had never kissed any of his subs. Ever. It was too personal, too invasive. He didn’t want want to be that close to them; he’d wanted to keep some distance. Her tongue ran hot and wet over the pad of his thumb before her teeth softly nipped him; his prick jumped to life.

His eyes sparked with dark fire, and Hermione's pulse throbbed in her throat. _Get a hold of yourself, girl. He's here to fill a role._ Her stomach refused to listen; it jumped and flipped like an anxious acrobat. _This isn't a date. He's not your boyfriend. He's a man who agreed to help you with some spanking and shagging._

Severus continued to debate himself. He had kissed only three people in his entire life. All in his youth. Lily had been his first. It had been the sweetest moment of his life. He had a horrible feeling that it had meant much more to him than it had to her, or perhaps he’d just been a repulsive first kiss. He’d only been twelve; he didn’t know what he was doing. The second kiss had been the first witch he’d slept with. She'd been a bookish Slytherin with a sharp tongue and wit. He’d slept with her mostly out of anger. Lily was spending more time with Potter, and he knew that his dreams of her becoming his were futile. Life had screwed him over once again. Or he’d screwed himself. Either way, he learned quickly that he could fuck the anger from his soul (even if the effects were only temporary). Lucius had been the most talented of the three. He couldn’t hold a candle to Lily’s sweetness, but he could snog Snape to the brink of ejaculation. They only slept together casually, but it was Lucius who’d introduced him to the hidden world of sex clubs and slaves. Severus found his niche playing dominant at those clubs. Legilimency afforded him an edge over the other men. Everyone gushed about how he always knew just what they wanted.

That world was a separate part of his life. It was a big part of him, but he could never fully embrace it. He always had to stay on guard against the Dark Lord’s mental invasions. If Severus had ever become attached to someone and Voldemort found out, it would have been dangerous for him and his partner. After a while it had just become too complicated to continue. The more stressful his life became, the less he went out. For a few years, he met Lucius every week or so just to rid himself of the physical tension. The Dark Lord already knew of their involvement and had them both by the balls, so there was nothing to risk.

Kissing Granger would be a massive step out of his comfort zone. And once he took that step, he could never go back. But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Wasn’t that kind of intimacy exactly what he’d been looking for? What was more human than kissing? This was supposed to be about figuring out what kind of man he really was—experiencing life again. He had no idea how she would react to such a gesture. Perhaps he should ask her what she wanted first.

Hermione was tired of arguing the pros and cons in her head. Was he not her lover who wore many hats? She slid her hand over his face, curling her fingers along his jaw and drawing him closer. She went slowly, giving him plenty of chances to pull back or stop her in some way, but he didn't resist; he just stared into her eyes until their noses were brushing and her lips were a breath away from his.

Severus watched her pupils go dark with desire. She wanted it just as much as he did. That took a considerable amount of weight off his shoulders. She might prefer being submissive in bed, but there was still that spark of Gryffindor courage underlying her behavior. She wasn’t trying to dominate him with the direction, she was just being her usual honest self. Sometimes a simple gesture spoke louder than words.

He crossed that last barrier of space between them and touched his lips to hers. Hermione’s stomach flipped over; the soft buzz of pleasure jolted all the way down to her toes. She kissed him back, her mouth softly pressed to his. She’d snogged her fair share of wizards over the years, but none of them had ever made her feel like this. That same patience and control he had in bed was matched in his kiss. She hadn’t even felt his tongue yet; he was almost teasing, catching her lower lip between his like a juicy strawberry—then moving to her upper lip for an equally tasty sample. She did the same thing to him, sucking gently on whichever lip was offered.

His hand slid into her hair, and Severus closed his eyes. Those lips that felt so perfect wrapped around his cock were even more glorious when they met with his. Her mouth was sweeter than a sugar quill. He didn’t want to miss an inch of it. Testing out both her upper and lower lip, he found them to be equally delightful; only a subtle variation in plumpness and agility differentiated one from the other.

Hermione was going slightly mad. She wanted more. She wanted him claiming every tooth and taste bud as his own. She wanted him to devour her with the same hunger he showed her pussy. Opening her mouth, she flicked her tongue over his thin lips and tapped lightly.

Snape's chest tightened with a twinge of excitement, his heart stumbling as the wet, velvet warmth of her tongue licked over his lips. He growled softly and let her inside, his own tongue greeting her arrival. They swirled together, tasting each other like first-years gorging themselves on sweets. He couldn’t get enough of her. The chills oozing through his belly left his brain empty and his dick full. She didn’t have any of Lucius’s forcefulness, but he didn’t need it. She was all invitation and curiosity, a bundle of playful sensuality. He was suddenly damn glad he’d answered that ad.

Hermione was becoming a gooey mass of pudding. Her insides had liquified and were currently seeping out of her pussy like a spillway. Bloody hell that man knew how to kiss. She snaked one arm around his neck and locked herself against him. The room was getting far too hot for such close confines, but she didn’t care; she pulled him even closer, curling her hand around his head and carding her hand into his hair.

“Maowwrrr.”

They didn’t pull apart, but they both looked over in the direction the sound had come from. Crookshanks was sitting across from them with an expectant expression on his face.

Severus kept his lips against hers. “Do you think he wants something, or does he object to our proximity?”

Hermione smiled and gave him a soft peck. “It’s time for his furball treatment and catnip. Just give me one minute.”

He let out short growl of impatience and disappointment, but he leaned back and helped her disentangle herself from his person.

Hermione forced herself off the couch and headed for the kitchen. “Come on, Crookshanks.”

Crookshanks didn’t get up right away. He stared at Snape with a cool unwavering gaze that the Potions master had to admire. That cat could have cracked any first or second-year in 30 seconds.

“Crooks, where are you?” Hermione called from the kitchen.

Crookshanks rose but never took his eyes off Snape. Severus always got the impression all cats were master Legilimens, reading everyone and dismissing them with a flick of the tail. And this one seemed vaguely amused by whatever it was he saw in Snape. His orange tail finally twitched out of sight, and Severus relaxed, no longer feeling the yellow eyes of scrutiny washing over him.

“There you are,” Hermione crooned, bending down so he could lick the meaty-scented furball paste from her finger. She scratched his ears as he finished. “That’s my good boy. Are you ready for your mouse?”

Crookshanks flopped down as she rolled his fuzzy toy mouse through the catnip. She set it on the floor for him, and he rubbed his face into it like a junkie. Hermione grinned. “Have fun.”

She went to the sink to wash her hands then headed back out to Snape. She stopped short when she saw him. He looked quite handsome in the warm glow of her lamps—his hair mussed, eyes dark as midnight. In her absence he had unbuttoned his top two buttons and rolled up his sleeves. She couldn’t help smiling at how his arm was "casually" thrown across the back of the couch, prepared for her to return to her previous position. Hermione was ready to sink back into his arms, but she wanted to get even closer. She unfastened her jeans and started to peel them down, watching his face to gauge his reaction.

Severus sat up a little straighter. “What are doing?”

“Getting comfortable.”

She wiggled out of her tight jeans, and Severus sat back and enjoyed the show. Her little lacy, pink knickers almost matched her jumper. She gave him a wicked smile that made his cock sit up and take notice. Dismissing the previous seating arrangement, she climbed in his lap and straddled his hips. Her pussy pressed against his burgeoning erection, grinding into him through his trousers.

Hermione saw the dark desire flare in his eyes. That excited her just as much as the hard column pressing into her core. She slipped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his nose with hers.

Snape gripped her hips, playing his thumbs along the satiny strings at the sides of her knickers. She brushed her nose along his cheek, and he closed his eyes as an unfamiliar warmth coated his stomach. It seemed too sweet to be sexual, but his cock just kept filling as if she were kissing more southerly parts of his anatomy. She placed a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth, and he turned his face, meeting her teasing peck with his own.

His tongue slowly crept back into her mouth, making her moan and squirm in his lap. His patience was quickly dwindling. The relaxed exploration gradually became more urgent. He got to know the contours of her mouth intimately before he gave her a chance to breathe.

Severus grunted as she came right back at him. Her teeth teased his lower lip like a cannibal playing with its food. Her dancing hips and oral overtures were becoming too much for him. He was hard as a rock and ready to burst the seams of his fly. Sliding his hands around to her arse, he grabbed a cheek in each hand and lifted her up so his dick could take a break. He dropped his head to the back of the seat and panted up at her. “Slow down, little girl. We have all night.”

He spread her cheeks wider, and Hermione tried to rub her clit against his abdomen. He was so bloody sexy: hair a mess, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen and glistening from her ardor. If a look could make a person come, she’d have been screaming his name right then. Slipping her hand down between them, she tried to open his fly. She wanted to impale herself on him. His zip slid down, freeing the bulging weight of his hard-on.

Severus growled as her fingers dove into his trousers. He tried to pull out of her firm grasp but only succeeded in making her tug at his cock. Releasing her arse, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands off of him, holding her at bay so he wouldn’t explode in his shorts.

She ground her hips into him again, aroused by the manual restraint. “I want you so much.”

“We have all night. Don’t be in a rush.”

“Please take me to bed. I need you inside me.”

Severus winced as the pleasure started to build in his balls. “Arms up,” he rasped, lifting her hands toward the ceiling.

Hermione held up her arms as he pulled off her jumper. As soon as it was gone, she was pressing into him, loving the hard heat of his body. For such a cold looking man, he was hotter than asphalt in August.

Severus unhooked her bra and pulled it off before she could get going again. His hands automatically went to her soft tits, cupping them and thumbing her stiff nipples. Brushing his lips over her ear, he purred, “Are those pretty pink knickers nice and wet for me?”

The gravelly rock slide of his words skipped down her spine like a stone over water, thunking to a splashing halt in her pussy. “Drenched, sir.”

He smirked. “All right. Let’s go to your room. I don’t want that cat of yours critiquing my performance.”

She grinned and pulled him off the couch with her, dragging him to her room.

Once the door clicked shut, Severus let his trousers drop to the floor and kicked off his shoes. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off while she turned on the lights and climbed into bed. When she went to take off her knickers, he stopped her. “No. I’ll do that.”

Hermione smiled and nodded, watching him strip for her. He looked tasty. Like white chocolate. He'd always been a bit sallow, but the increased blood flow of excitement left him looking healthy rather than ghostly. When he peeled off his boxers, her musings on his pallor were forgotten. His dick looked very healthy: heavy and full. 

Severus rested one knee on the bed then crawled toward her. Her legs parted for him like the Red Sea. Settling over top of her, he ground his dick along her damp gusset. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," she gasped, digging her fingers into his back as he started to rock against her. "Please take off my knickers, sir."

He chuckled and pressed his lips to her neck, sucking at her pulse. “All in good time,” he muttered. Her skin tasted like whipped cream. He couldn’t stop licking her.

Hermione moaned as he lapped a wet trail down the center of her body. His tongue delved into her navel as his fingers pinched her nipples to sharp peaks. Her body wouldn’t stay still; she was twitching and bucking under him as if she’d been struck by lightening. Chills shot up her spine, making every hair on the the back of her neck stand on end. When he finally sank down to her pink panties, she was ready to mash his face into her pussy and suffocate him with her appreciation.

She didn’t though.

He did it all on his own.

Severus could smell her growing arousal through that last lacy layer. Brushing his nose over the damp patch at the front, he gave her nipple one last tweak before sliding his hands down to her hips. Catching the satin strings at the sides, he rolled her knickers down her legs, watching the unveiling with a small smirk. Her pubic hair was noticeably wet along her slit. Tossing her knickers over his shoulder, he sank down to her sweet muff. This was the best seat in the house.

His nose ran over her inner thigh and then, grazing across her labia, did the same to her other thigh. Parting her with two fingers, he held open her lips and surveyed the area. It was perfect. Her juicy shine begged for his tongue. Licking up her center, he indulged in her sweetness. Her core was glistening red, ripe as a raspberry. He suckled her inner lips, pulling the wine from her chalice.

Her back arched off the bed as he smothered his face in her sex. His nose was all over her clit, his breath shooting a breeze through her interior. His tongue was at her entrance, lapping up everything he couldn’t reach with his lips. Hermione wasn’t petting his head anymore, she was tearing at his hair. She didn’t want to hurt him, but a person grabs at what they can when they’re being pushed overboard; and she was dangling from the guardrail by her fingertips.

Severus shook his head back and forth so the slick mass of her engorged nub bumped over the bridge of his nose. She screamed his name, and her muscles pulsed against his tongue. Her entire body had drawn itself into a tight arch, her fingers clamping into his skull. He couldn’t help grinning to himself as she jerked against his face.

When she relaxed and stopped wailing, he came up for air, ready to fuck her until she screamed like that again. Severus climbed up and settled his hips against hers, grinding his length into her sopping center. Reaching between them, he aimed his knob into her silken heat. "Is this what you've been thinking about all week?"

She smiled. "Yes, sir. It's been a wet week."

He carefully slid inside, holding back his groan as her body accepted him. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her body while fighting his dwindling restraint. The urge to fuck her through the mattress was overwhelming. Perhaps that was due to the prolonged snogging session on her sofa.

Hermione’s jaw dropped as he filled her. There was no more room inside her. No room for racing thoughts. No room for worry. No room for sadness. This was all she needed: the here and now of his cock driving the darkness out of her with every thrust. His face was glinting with her juices. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. And he was staring at her with enough heat to singe off her eyebrows. Catching his face in both hands, she pulled his mouth on top of hers and kissed him the way he deserved to be kissed.

Severus sank into the sweetness of her mouth. He’d never kissed while fucking; it was more of a before or after kind of activity. But this was bloody amazing. It added a whole new layer of sensation. She was a parfait of pleasure. Her tongue penetrated his mouth as his cock penetrated her pussy. Or was he enveloping her tongue as she enveloped his cock? That was a zen riddle he wasn't up for pondering at the moment.

His engorged knob prodded her depths, sending vibrations all the way from her pussy to her stomach. His thrusts reverberated throughout her entire body. She didn't feel like crying this time, she felt strangely calm and euphoric. If he continued circling his hips like that, she was going to be screaming into his mouth in a few minutes. He kept grinding into her and then giving her a few slow thrusts. It was maddeningly perfect.

Severus grunted as her legs tightened around his hips. It wasn't just her softness that made him insane, it was her openness. She didn't hold anything back. Good or bad. If she was sad, she cried. If she thought his cock was gorgeous, she told him. If she wanted his lips sealed against hers as they rutted on her eyelet comforter, she made it impossible for him to resist. He wasn't used to such honesty. Mostly he dealt with students who constantly lied about one thing or another: why they didn't have their homework, why they were out after curfew, why their cauldron was melting all over his desk. It was a bloody relief to hear the truth for once.

Hermione slid her hands around to his back, running her palms over the ropy muscles; she was hungry for his strength. Constantly being the strong one was bloody exhausting. She did nothing but fight on a daily basis: fight the system, fight injustice, fight ignorance. If she could hand off some of that weight, maybe she wouldn't feel as though she were drowning all the time. She wanted him to take charge just so she could rest. 

Severus pulled his lips from hers and caught his breath. She looked so bloody beautiful beneath him. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Do you like that?"

Hermione nodded. "Please don't stop."

Snape smirked. He wanted to stay inside her until his dick was so saturated with her cream he could wring it into his morning coffee. "Is your pussy ready to sing for me?"

She gasped as he nipped at her neck. "If anyone can make it sing, it's you."

Snape chuckled into her warm skin. "It sounds perfect to me. Hearing you scream my name is excellent, but it can't hold a candle to this wet little pussy."

Hermione shivered as his scratchy whisper tickled her ear. "You're driving me insane."

He laughed, muffling the sound in her shoulder. "I think you're ready to come. Would you like to be on top this time?"

She thought about it briefly, picturing him on his back below her. She wanted to see if she could make him grunt and growl while she rode him. "Yes. Are you going to come?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Not yet. I want to make sure you sleep well tonight." He’d keep it to himself that he’d already come once that morning with her name on his lips.

Hermione smiled back and held on as he rolled them over so he was on his back. It took her a few seconds to get her bearings. Pushing herself upright, she started to grind against him. 

Her eyes rolled back in her head. He was so deep. Every swirl of her hips brought a new sensation for her to explore. She was hitting spots inside her pussy she never even knew existed. Every time a new area was discovered, she set up camp for bit, testing every kind of thrust and wiggle to see how each compared.

Severus was watching her not only for the artistry of her movement, but to see how she got herself off. He knew this was her preferred method. He could just picture her alone in bed at night, riding her fingers and frigging her clit. She was slowly gaining momentum, progressing from a delicate swirl to a steady trot. He was torn between watching the desire play over her face or seeing her tits sway and jiggle as she picked up the pace. Realizing he had another option, he covered her bouncing breasts with both hands and locked his eyes on hers. He could have both.

Hermione went back and forth between deep undulations and just riding him full speed. Both left her moaning so loudly her throat was going dry. When her thighs started to burn, she knew it was time to stop teasing herself. Leaning forward just a bit, she got her clit in on the action, letting it kiss his pelvis each time she slammed down. “Oh God!”

Severus grinned. Her face was a mixture of pain and pleasure. Torture and ecstasy. Giving her a helping hand, he pinched her knotted nipples between his fingers. Her eyelids fluttered low, and she stared into his eyes as if she’d been drugged. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Digging her fingers into his chest to keep hold of him, Hermione rode him like a pro. James was right, she could be a cowgirl. She was certainly sweating like one. His scorching gaze was enough to roast her all on its own. She was lost in the bottomless pits of his black eyes. They seemed to go on for eternity. The constricting in her core suddenly snapped, throbbing through her like a sonic blast. She shouted his name and pounded herself through the electric pulse in her pussy.

Severus gritted his teeth as she came, locking his pelvis in place so she could take what she needed from him. Her muscles danced around his shaft, squeezing and pulling like a greedy mob. He planned to fuck her until she came again so he could feel her sweet sheath squeezing him dry. 

Hermione slowed as she came back down, settling into a lazy roll. Holding her hips, he gently thrust into her from below, letting her pussy wind down but keeping her primed for more. 

"How do you feel now?" he whispered.

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. She was just about knackered. "Calm."

Severus smirked at her sated expression. "Do you want me back on top?"

"Yes, please. My calf is starting to cramp."

Snape helped her off him. “Get on your stomach.”

A layer of sweat coated her like dew. She rolled into an unused portion of bedding and sighed as the blessed coolness drained her heat. Snape's hands glided over her slick body, delving down between her thighs to spread her legs. She opened up wide for him.

Brushing his fingers over her parted lower lips, he grinned at the shine glazing his fingers. His cock was getting sticky as her honey began to dry. Kneeling behind her, he held open her cheeks, just to check in with her neglected port. It twitched at the exposure, hiding from the light like a vampire shrinking from the sun. "Arch your back for me."

Hermione's pussy jumped with jealousy, begging for Snape to come back home. "Please fuck me, Severus. My pussy needs you."

His grin widened and he released her bouncy bum to lay against her. When her curvy rump was pressed to his hips and his chest was pressed to her back, he reached down and grabbed hold of his dick. Buttering it in her folds, he teased her for minute.

"Your pussy needs me?" he repeated, rumbling at the back of her ear. "I can hear that. It's salivating."

Her face went red, but she was at a level of desperation that overrode her embarrassment. “Yes, it is. Please! Come back in."

He laughed. "Such a gracious and wet little hostess. Is this what you want?" he asked, pressing his tip to her weeping entrance. 

"Yes!" she moaned, tearing at the comforter as her stomach twisted with tension.

Sinking into her welcoming warmth, he closed his eyes and submerged his brain in the pleasure of her body. "Mmmmm. You were right, it is nice in here. I think I'll stay a while."

Her muscles relaxed as he began to rock inside her. The slip and slide of his sex was sublime. And the angle was just right. He somehow felt even bigger, stretching her opening while his knob ground into her front wall. He brushed her hair out of the way, and touched his lips to her neck, his breath hot and heavy on her damp skin. 

Severus licked the sweat from her neck then grazed her thumping pulse with his teeth. Her raging desire for him was quite a turn on. The sloshing of her sex and the creak of her bedsprings could still be heard over her whimpers and heavy breathing; the sounds wove together, creating a salacious symphony for him to keep time to. 

He changed the tempo whenever she started to calm, making sure to keep her on the edge of her seat. Slowly, he worked over the back of her neck, leaving a purple and red trail of love bites. She seemed to love the sharp pull of suction and the nip of his teeth. He kept asking her if she wanted another one, and the answer was always a heated "yes!"

Hermione had never been in such a situation before. There seemed to be no end to his titillating talents. Her vagina wavered between orgasm and defeat. And she didn't know which one she wanted. Keeping him inside her sounded perfect, but her body was dying for some relief. It didn't seem healthy to just let things go on indefinitely.

Severus was also in the midst of an internal tug-of-war. This was not at all like his other "relationships." Even though he'd put her facedown so he could stop snogging her and think, she still commanded every ounce of him. He often felt responsible for his subs, but this went far beyond that. He felt connected to her. _We do share a rather life-altering bit of history._ The final battle had wounded and freed them both to some degree. But that didn't entirely explain the affection bubbling in his gut. He'd known that making a commitment to work with a witch in this manner would inspire feelings he wasn't used to (or had forgotten). But finding Granger of all people so accepting of both his discipline and physical person was more than a pleasant surprise. He had a bizarre new outlet for his repressed emotional development. All those years ago, Evans was the one person willing to see past his cold exterior; now Hermione was offering him that same chance. She saw the better side of him; and he wanted to show it to her. This time, however, he knew the penalty for abandoning such kindness. Severus Snape was not a man who made the same mistake twice. 

Hermione started to crack. Her body had decided it was going to climax no matter what, and if he didn't get her there soon, she was going to flip him over and take him for another ride. She didn't want to move though. He felt so good on top of her. Hot and sweaty—but good. "Please, sir. I can't take any more."

Snape pulled his nose from her hair and put his lips to the back of her ear. "Call me Severus."

His tongue flickered over her ear, and Hermione grunted. "Yes! Severus, please! I'm so close."

Snapping his hips a little faster, he gave her what she needed. "Let me feel that pussy," he hissed. "Hold onto my cock like you're never going to let go."

Hermione tried to tighten herself around him. It produced an entirely new sensation, and her core began to engage. "Unh!"

"That's right," he crooned, nuzzling her neck. "Come for me"

She did. Her muscles bore down around his dick, and she shouted with relief. Every anxiety in her body flooded out around his length. Wave after wave. She floated back to shore and let out a deep sigh. 

Severus concentrated on pushing himself over the edge and followed her moments later, grunting softly into her damp skin as he unfurled inside her. His body shuddered, expelling a good deal of the reticence he'd been harboring as his seed burst forth. It was a cleansing climax. Heaving a great sigh, he rested against the radiating heat of her body. 

"Do you think you can sleep now?" he panted.

Hermione smiled. "Can you stay?"

"As long as you wake me up early enough to get back to the castle."

"I get up at six."

"That's fine." Carefully pulling out of her, he slid to his left and stretched out on his side.

Hermione was sad that he pulled out, but grateful for the cooling breeze. She turned her head to look at him, smirking when she saw his disheveled hair and drooping eyelids. "I need some water . . . and the loo."

He nodded and wandlessly cast a Tergio over his cock. He wanted to leave her cream where it was, but he didn't want to make a mess of her sheets. "I'll be here."

Rolling limply to the side, Hermione rose from the bed and padded down the short hall to the bathroom. It took some serious pressure, but she finally got the wee free. After she cleaned up (and did some investigating to see how weird her pussy felt), she went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Crookshanks was lazing in the dark kitchen, watching for Hermes’ return through the window. 

"Maaowr."

"Yes, we're done. Stop looking at me like that."

She downed a small glass of water then got one for Severus. _He must be thirsty; he's been working awfully hard_.

"Raooowr."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, crouching down to scratch his head. "He's stealing your spot in the bed for tonight."

Crookshanks yawned and dropped his head back to the floor.

"I'll make you both breakfast tomorrow morning," she promised, taking the glass and turning out the light.

"Maow."

"Night," she answered back.

Severus opened his eyes as she came back in the room. "Did I hear you talking to someone?"

"Crookshanks," she said, climbing in and handing him the water.

"Ah." He sat up a little and took the glass from her. "Is this for me?"

"Yes, of course. Aren't you thirsty?"

He was. He just wasn't used to people thinking of him. "Yes. Thank you."

She smiled and climbed under the sheets with him. "I told Crooks I'd make you both breakfast in the morning. What do you usually eat?"

Snape swallowed half the glass and set it on the night table. "You don't have to make me anything."

She scooted closer to him. "I'd like to do it. Unless you want pancakes or something, we're limited to porridge and eggs and cereal and juice."

"Porridge and eggs are fine," he said, settling on his back and pushing the blanket down to his waist. He was still somewhat hot but didn't want to get out from under the covers. "I don't suppose you have coffee?"

"Actually, I do. I keep some in the freezer for guests."

That was a pleasant surprise. "Give it to me first if you want me to be human when you see me."

Hermione laughed and put her hand on his chest. "No problem."

Snape's skin tingled where she touched him. Putting his hand over hers, he stroked her fingers. "Come on,” he said, waving her over. “I know you want to." 

Grinning, Hermione slid right up next to him and put her head on his chest. His arm went around her just like before, and she heard him mutter "Nox." The room went dark. Closing her eyes, she listened to the rhythm of his breathing, letting it lull her into a realm of sated dreams and deep sleep.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus woke in the morning to the dim light of dawn just starting to glow behind her window shade. Looking around, he was confused about where his warm little partner had gotten off to. Her side of the bed was empty, but she must have covered him back up, because the blanket was tucked around him on her side.

Not counting his need for coffee, he felt pretty damn good. Climbing out of bed, he gathered his clothes and made his way to her loo. After draining his bladder, he washed his face in the sink and did his best with his hair. He put on his clothes and checked himself in the mirror. It was passable. If he had enough time to take a shower when he got back, he would. If not, no one was likely to notice. 

He smelled the sweet ambrosia of percolating caffeine, and followed the aroma to her little kitchen. She was busy at the stove, wearing her maroon bathrobe as she studied the eggs. Her frayed orange cat meowed at him, and Severus nodded at him in greeting. 

Hermione turned, smiling softly when she saw him. "Morning. Have a seat. I've got your coffee right here."

She poured his coffee from a french press and brought him the mug (sporting a Chudley Cannons Chaser zooming around its perimeter). He took it from her, inhaling the dark roast before reviving his brain. 

"There's sugar and cream on the table," she said with a smirk.

"This is excellent," he said after sipping it experimentally. "Where did a witch who doesn't like coffee learn to brew such an exemplary cup?"

Hermione went back to her skillet, her smile sagging. "My dad likes coffee. I used to make it for him when I was little."

He hadn't meant to remind her of her parents. That was no way to start the day. "This is far better than what the house-elves give me at Hogwarts."

Her back stiffened.

 _Bugger!_ Could he say one more thing wrong? Perhaps just shout "Barnabas" in her ear? "Those eggs smell good too. How long have you been up?"

"Just about twenty minutes," she said quietly.

"I'm going to hear it from Minerva when I get back," he told her, trying to lighten the mood. "Think I should tell her where I've been running off to?"

Hermione flashed him a grin over her shoulder. "I think she might hex your bits blue."

"Well, I wasn't going to give her details."

Hermione shook her head. He sounded groggy as hell, but he also seemed to be in a good mood. "You want your porridge first or eggs?"

"Eggs. Do you have any milk?"

She nodded. "In the fridge."

"I'll get it."

He opened her refrigerator and raised one eyebrow, processing what he was seeing. She had everything in containers, labelled and stacked like some obsessive-compulsive chef. It was the most anal-retentive thing he'd ever seen. He pulled out the milk and set it on the table then went to her cupboards. The canned goods were stacked in perfect rows—in alphabetical order. The boxes were likewise arranged (probably with a slide-rule). He checked the cabinet. The dishes and glasses were all arranged by size (which wasn't strange) but also perfectly equidistant (which was).

"What are you looking for?" she asked, sliding their eggs onto two plates.

He would never pressure her about following the rules again. Being organized was one thing, but this was neurotic. "I'll be right back."

He went to her bathroom and found the drawers and cupboard all painstakingly straight and orderly just like the kitchen. He'd never seen such perfectly folded towels.

Sneaking over to her bedroom, he started with the second drawer down. The top drawer held her underwear, and he'd already seen its color-coded rows. It hadn't struck him as strange at the time, but then again, he had been more distracted by the contents. 

Perfectly creased and stacked jeans and jumpers filled one drawer—also color-coded. T-shirts and other shirts, pressed to perfection. The closet was arranged by both color and length. She didn't have a lot of clothes, but he didn't need to see any more.

Hermione came into the room looking confused and a bit angry. "What are you doing? Are you going through my things?"

Severus closed the closet and went to her. "We need to talk."

The anger melted, leaving just the confusion. "Talk? About what?"

He put his arm around her shoulders and led her back to the kitchen. "Sit down. We'll talk while we eat."

Hermione sat across from him at the tiny table and watched him watch her. When he motioned for her to go ahead and eat, she picked up a triangle of toast and smeared some jam on it, keeping one eye on him the whole time.

"Miss Granger," he started, taking a sip of coffee before continuing. "It has just come to my attention that your need for order is overwhelming your life."

"What do you mean?" she asked as she nibbled her toast.

"The precision with which you have organized this flat is disturbing.” He held up his hand when she started to protest. "I understand your need for control and order in a world that seems unpredictable and harsh, but this is unhealthy. Have you told your therapist about all this?"

Hermione looked down at her porridge. "No."

"Tell her. Today. I'm not going to ask you to stop right away, but this is something we need to correct. Immediately. Do you understand?"

"You're going to spank me?"

She looked half-hopeful and half-concerned. He hadn’t been planning to spank her, but it was clear she needed it. "This morning. Before I leave. I want you to think about this today. I know you have a lot on your plate with things at work, but . . . this is obsessive, Miss Granger. The sooner you address this, the sooner you can get on with your life."

She picked at her food as he tucked into his breakfast. She wanted the spanking, but letting go of her nice neat flat sounded horrid.

Severus watched her pick at her food. "Please eat, Miss Granger. Why do you look so nervous?"

"I don't know. Do you really think it's that bad?"

He nodded and reached across the table for her hand. "When we're _both done eating_ ," he said, looking pointedly at her plate, "I'll take you back to your room and warm your bottom."

Hermione's face flared red.

"I won't make you cry. I don't want to send you to work like that. It'll just be enough to remind you to think about the change I'm asking you to make. Does that sound scary?"

She shook her head. "Not the spanking part."

"But the changing part?" 

"Yes."

"We'll talk about that in bit. Please eat your breakfast. You need your strength."

Hermione ate her food but tasted very little of it. She wasn't scared so much as apprehensive. Breakfast went by in a blur. Her eyes kept searching his face, hoping for some kind of reassurance. His expression stayed pretty blank. He ate everything she'd made then poured himself another cup of coffee and waited for her to finish.

Snape checked the clock on the stove. "How much time do you need to get ready for work?"

"If I want to look semi-decent, about twenty minutes."

"That gives us just a half hour or so. Are you ready?"

She set her spoon in her mostly-empty bowl. "Yes."

He rose and waited for her to join him. They made their way to her bedroom in silence. Snape's silence was thoughtful, but he could tell hers was more tense. "I'm just going to have you put your hands on the bed. I don't want you bending over my lap and being sick all over the place."

Hermione nodded and began to undo her sash. 

"Hold on," he said, touching her hand to stop her. "First you look me in the eye and say what you're supposed to."

Looking him in the eye while he shagged her was vastly different than when asking for a spanking. She suddenly felt guilty for keeping her flat so clean. And she was slightly embarrassed that he was preparing to punish her yet again . . . like a naughty little girl. _How can I love something but be so freaked out by it?_

After another deep breath, she forced herself to get it over with. "I've been bad again, sir. I'm too obsessive about cleaning and it's unhealthy. Please spank my bare bottom and turn it red so I remember this all day."

Severus gave her a small smile. "That was lovely, Miss Granger." He touched her cheek. "Except you haven't been bad. Bad is when you do something you know is wrong. You've done everything I've asked. You are not bad. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then take off your robe and bend over, hands on the bed."

Hermione did as he asked, baring her body for him. The room felt too cold, but she tried to ignore the gooseflesh prickling her skin. He stood to her side and rubbed his hand over her bum.

 _Slap!_ He kept the swats slow and easy. He really did just want her warm from this. Her cheeks turned a nice shade of pink, and he stopped when they were evenly colored. Swiping his hand over the curve of her backside, he wiped away some of the sting. "I know the thought of change worries you. You're clinging to the things that bring some much needed order to a world full of chaos. It's a coping mechanism. You don't want any surprises here. You want things to be just as you left them. But perfection is not only impossible, it can be unhealthy. The world will not crumble because you didn't fold your knickers into perfect thirds or because the juice glasses aren't five centimeters from the edge of the cabinet. It might make you feel temporarily better to fix those things, but you're just covering up for the stress you feel every day. It's like putting a plaster over a cut and then ripping it off and causing just as much damage. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"I knew you would." 

He started the next round, turning the pink wash to a nice magenta. She didn't kick or complain, but he could tell by the curl and arch of her back that she was getting uncomfortable. Pausing again, he softly stroked her bum and let his fingers brush her pussy.

"I understand your fears, Miss Granger. But the only constant in this world is change. It is inevitable. You don't have to force it, and I won't make you. It will come naturally. You'll learn to let go the more you learn to trust yourself. The world is only in chaos if you're fighting its natural ebb and flow. I know what it's like to swim against the current for too long. No matter how much you struggle, nature will prevail. In the end you can either go along for the ride or claw your way toward the past. Do you want to change, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want life to be a struggle."

He smiled. "That was a good answer. Are you going to talk to your therapist today?"

"Yes, sir."

His fingers slid through her folds, spreading around her juice. "Just a little more spanking, and then we'll get this pretty pussy ready for work."

Hermione closed her eyes as he began slapping her bum again. Her skin was tingling and warm. It was nice. And she certainly felt better about what he was asking. He wasn't demanding she upend her flat and leave it in shambles. He just wanted her to let go of her rigid rules a little. That would be a relief. She didn't want to be a slave to her neurosis. 

When her rump started to go red, he stopped and dropped to one knee, sliding his fingers through her excitement. "Tell me you're going to do your best to relax your organization, Miss Granger."

"I will relax my unhealthy organization."

"Good girl." His fingers eased inside her, curling into her creamy canal. "I meant it about being here to help you. If you get the urge to color-code your fruit, or what have you, owl me. I'll do my best. That might not always be good enough, but at least you won't have to deal with it by yourself."

His thumb found her clit, and Hermione moaned as he deftly played her pussy. Her legs were starting to shake. "Thank you, sir."

He smiled. "You're welcome. Start by letting go right now. Listen to your body."

She could hear it loud and clear. His thumb ticked a little faster, and her knees buckled to the bed as she started to climax. "Ahhhh!"

"I know," he murmured, staying right with her. When her muscles stopped twitching, he pulled his fingers free and licked them clean. "Are you ready for your day now, Miss Granger?

"Yes, sir," she panted, grinning at the bedspread.

"We're not done here yet."

"We're not?"

He stood and patted her glowing bum. "Stand up and turn around."

Hermione faced him, and he cupped his hands around her face, raking them back into her hair. His lips touched her forehead, and she closed her eyes at the gentle peace of the moment. She slid her arms around him and hugged him. 

Severus felt that dangerous twinge in his heart again but ignored it and wrapped his arms around her, holding her to his chest. One of her hands sneaked down to the front of his trousers and palmed his dick through his clothes. He nudged her hand away. "No."

She looked up at him.

"I have to leave soon. We don't have time right now."

"I can work fast."

He smiled and kissed her head again. "That is very tempting, and you are very sweet; but I'd rather wait until we have more time. I'll see you again soon, and you can show me what I'm missing then, all right?"

"Are you sure? I'd really like to see your dick again before you go."

Severus laughed roundly. "I'll let you see it again, but you can't touch."

Hermione grinned as he lifted his coat out of the way and slid down his zip, pulling his boxers below his limp prick. She liked how sleepy soft it looked. "Is it all right if I kiss him goodbye?" 

Severus was torn between laughing and groaning. He caught her face in one hand and made her meet his gaze. Her eyes were dark with lust. She wasn't trying to tease him. She honestly wanted him. Her eager hunger made his cock jump. "Very well. One kiss and then I have to go."

She grinned and sank down on her knees before him, pulling his shorts and trousers below his hips so she could get a good look. If she only got one kiss, she was going to make it a memorable one.

Severus kept his eyes locked on her, watching as she neared his limp sex. Her affection for his manhood no matter the circumstances was both flattering and endearing. Her lips pressed to his head, and his eyelids sank lower, relaxing into her warmth. He felt her tongue snake out, and he hissed as he started to fill. _Dammit_. She didn't just give him a parting peck; she was snogging the hell out of his wand like a reuniting lover. _Bloody hell_. Her tongue swirled around him, taking him deeper into her mouth. He glanced at her clock.

"No," he said firmly, pushing her back. "I'm going to be late."

Hermione bit her lip and looked down. She was hoping he wouldn't be able to withstand her feminine wiles.

"Come up here and give me a real kiss," he murmured, seeing her sad look. "We'll pick this up next time I see you."

She stood, searching his eyes for how he really felt. His voice always sounded a bit harsh now, so she couldn't tell if he was being gruff or not. He must not have been upset with her little trick, because he pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue wandered into her mouth. She kissed him back, hoping to start his day off as well as he'd started hers.

Snape kissed her until she felt relaxed and fluid in his arms. Pulling back, he smirked down at her. "Write me tonight and tell me how your day went. I can only come over in the evenings until next weekend." _Assuming I can find someone to cover my shifts for patrol._

"I will. Have a good day, Severus."

He stroked the side of her face one last time. "You too, Miss Granger. Be good."

"You too."

He laughed. "I'll go set a cleaning spell on the kitchen and see myself out."

"Thanks."

He nodded and turned to go, leaving her alone in her bedroom. She sat down on her still-tingling backside and wondered how he'd feel about staying with her for an entire weekend.


	6. I’m Only Human

Severus sat down to dinner in the Great Hall. The dungeons still reeked of scorched mistletoe berries, but even that awful stink couldn't ruin his mood. He hadn’t had time to shower when he got back that morning, so the lingering scent of her still clung to his body. Every time he took a piss, he could smell her wafting up from his prick. He’d never been so eager to visit the loo in all his life. The repeated reminders throughout the day left him in a fine frame of mind. He still scared the hell of of most of the students, but he did so with a spring in his step.

Minerva strolled in and took her usual seat beside him, looking him up and down over the rim of her spectacles. “Good evening, Severus. You’re looking chipper today.” Her smile dropped. “You didn’t make someone wet themselves again, did you?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Not today.”

Minerva spread her napkin over her lap and studied him from the corner of her eye as she served herself. “Did you finish your business outside the castle?”

“I did. And I know you know exactly what time I returned this morning.”

Her puckered mouth pulled into a smile. “Do you mind me asking who she is?”

Severus kept his eyes on his food. _Damn nosy Gryffindors._ “What makes you think it’s a woman?”

“Oh honestly,” Minerva scoffed. “You stay out all night, barely making it back in time for class, and you look entirely too pleased with yourself. It’s rather obvious.”

Severus said nothing, neither confirming nor denying her accusation.

Minerva gave him a knowing nod. “So it _is_ someone I know. I’m happy for you, Severus. It’s good to see you getting out.”

He doubted she’d still be saying that if she knew he was shutping her favorite Gryffindor.

The night post flew overhead, and Minerva’s lips twitched with barely contained mirth. “I believe that’s for you.”

“What’s for me?”

She nodded at the bird above his head, and he looked up just in time to see a letter descending toward his face. Snatching it out of midair, he flipped it open and scanned it quickly to make sure she was all right. She’d signed it _Missing your cock, Hermione_ , so he surmised she was safe. Refolding the letter, he tucked it into his robes to read later.

Minerva could scarcely keep a straight face. “Severus Snape, you’re not just meeting some witch, you’re seeing someone seriously.”

He didn’t acknowledge her assertion, he just hid his smile behind his goblet. His reputation would be ruined if the students (or teachers) saw him without his usual sneer.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

He waited until he was in the tub before he allowed himself to indulge in her letter. He needed to pace the good things in his life. 

_Dear Severus,_

_I'm home a bit earlier than usual. We searched for Barnabas most of the day, but there still aren't any leads. I'm so worried about him. I wish we had enough people to have someone staked outside his old house to keep an eye on things. He must be trying to go back there. Or maybe he already is there. The owner says he's not, but why would I believe such a man? I hate to think what might be happening if he's in there._

_I ate lunch with my therapist this afternoon. I told her what you said about my cleanliness compulsion. She made me tell her all about you, and she seemed both amused and concerned by our relationship. She finally said that she didn't think what we were doing was necessarily unhealthy, especially if it was making me feel better. She said sometimes you need a physical element to unblock yourself. Then she asked me if you physically and emotionally calmed me down afterward or if you just shagged me and left. I told her you usually hold me until I calm down and then shag me and then hold me again. She seemed to think that was a satisfactory itinerary. She said the same thing about my cleaning that you did: that I'm trying to find some control in my life in whatever way I can. She said the first thing to do is start recognizing those actions. So when I feel like refolding everything, I just need to be aware of the impulse and identify what happened to lead up to that point. She said not to judge my actions, just to observe them_ _for now. She said if I wanted, I could try messing up some things and seeing how I felt about it (and that it was okay if I had to fix it again). She was very much in favor of my new sleeping habits, and she said I looked much better than I did last time I saw her. So it all went pretty well._

_My bum was nice and warm today. I know it was supposed to remind me not to be so obsessive, but mostly I just thought about you shagging me last night. I'm not really sore today or anything, but my pussy feels worn out. In a good way. I don't know if I can separate your "corrections" from the sex anymore. Is that wrong, or is that what you wanted to happen? Obviously, thinking about spanking turns me on or I never would have placed that ad, but I don't know if it's a punishment if I want it this much. Won't that just make me act out so I can get over your lap again?_

_I'm eating dinner with Crookshanks right now. When I'm done, I'll take my bath and probably finish reading those books you sent me. I want to spend as much time as possible lying over my pillows imagining you spanking me._

_I've been thinking about your cock all day. I wanted to taste you so much this morning. Next time we meet, I'm going to give you the works. So you'd better plan an extra hour into the night for me to test out a few ideas. The only thing I can't decide is how to finish you off. If I swallow, I can't watch; but if I watch, I won't feel you throbbing in my throat. Decisions, decisions. Will you touch yourself for me tonight? I wonder if we’re ever doing it at the same time. I'm already getting wet, and I'm not even done with my green beans yet. This is going to be a long night._

_Missing your cock,_  
  
_Hermione_

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Hermione,

You certainly know how to take the edge off the end of my day. Peeves coated all my cauldrons in ink (he said they weren't black enough), so I needed some good news after spending an hour cleaning them after dinner. 

Minerva has already deduced that I'm seeing someone. She can speculate all she likes; if she thinks I'm going to spill the details of my private life like some simpering schoolgirl, she's got another think coming. I have no intention of revealing your identity, but I might need her cooperation if I'm going to see you on the weekends. It's times like these that I hate working here (and having overly perceptive coworkers). I feel as though I'm seventeen and asking permission to go on a date. 

I am relieved you saw your therapist and that she doesn't object to our arrangement. I want you to follow her suggestions to the best of your ability. I'm going to add that if you get the urge to obsessively organize, you should owl me straight away. If you have a bad day, tell me. You can't clean away your stress. You have to deal with the actual issue at hand. There are things you need when you're tense, and alphabetizing your canned goods isn't going to meet those needs. I'll say this again, as long as you're honest and tell me what you need, I'll help you in whatever way I can.

In answer to your concerns about the effectiveness of my punishments, I have very specific reasons for doing the things I do with you. I have absolutely no worries that you will one day start acting out only to get yourself over my knee. You hate doing things wrong. And you know that if you want a spanking for no reason, all you have to do is ask and it will be given. You don't enjoy sparking my ire, so there's absolutely no reason for me to be harsh with you. The corrections serve many purposes: they force you to let go and allow you to relax, they focus your mind in the present, they shift the burden of decision-making from your shoulders to mine, they open your mind to change, they alleviate your guilt, they remind you that someone is looking out for you, and they make it (painfully) clear that you are not alone. There is more to it, but I think you can see that the reasons you crave my correction go beyond the physical.

Having your naked bottom thrust in the air and having my hands all over it is bound to cause some sexual associations in your brain. I simply use your involuntary response to solidify your correction with orgasmic release. You have never been seriously punished by me, and I doubt you would enjoy it. It isn't the pain that excites you, it's the chance to be free, to be taken care of. Your therapist is right about the physical unblocking the mental. I'm offering you a controlled physical stress, one where you are in a safe environment. It always culminates in victory for you (both physically and emotionally). The stress ends, and I help you recover. You calm back down and come full circle to normalcy . 

The sex we have is just a bonus. It is a common pleasure between two people who share similar tastes. And in the spirit of honesty, I'll admit that it makes me feel better too. 

I knew what you were trying to do this morning. Don't be fooled into thinking I'm as easily coerced as your past lovers. When someone sucks my dick, I want to enjoy it, not spend the whole time worrying if I'm going to be late. I wanted you to keep going more than I can convey in a letter. 

As a matter of fact, you'd be quite welcome in that position right now. I've been hard ever since I read your letter in the bath. I'll get in bed and have a nice slow wank in your honor. The next time we're alone, I'll give you ample time to show me what you can do. Have those books I sent you inspired your imagination? I don't mind being a test subject for any oral experiments you have in mind. Anything to further your education. 

Thinking of you (naked),  
  
Severus  
  
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Dear Severus,

You're putting way more thought into this than I am. How do you know so much about all this? I don't want this to sound mean, but since when have you been such a bastion of mental health? What happened to you after the war? I mean I'm certainly grateful, and I adore being with you; I just don't know what to expect from you next. How can you be so bloody calm with me? It’s like you went from being the coldest man I've ever met to being the one person who cares for me the most. I feel as if I was sucked through a wormhole and came out in another dimension where everything I know is wrong side up and turned around backward.

But at the same time, it's all perfect. You do just what you say you will, and you make me feel safe (plus you're sexy as hell and make me come like no one else I've ever been with). I think about you all the time. Not just the sex. Sometimes I just think about seeing you or getting a letter from you. Sometimes I wonder what you're doing. Today I got upset about Barnabas still being missing, and I went to the loo and started to cry. Then I thought about you sitting on the couch with me the other night and felt a bit better. I'm worried I'm getting too attached. Is this how I'm supposed to feel?

I'm scared you're going to suddenly decide to leave me. I think you already know why that scares me so much. I love my job, but you're the only thing in my life that I really look forward to. You told me to be honest with you. Is this what you meant, or have I just made everything awkward and uncomfortable for you?

I think I'm becoming addicted to the spankings. Or maybe it's the way I feel afterward. When you correct me, do you feel the the opposite/corresponding things I do? Like, does spanking me make you feel more in control? Does it make you feel good? Is it a job, or is it recreation? Does it calm you down? 

My brain won't turn off (and I'm sure once I owl this letter I'll be even more anxious). I don't want to ruin things with you, but I'm so confused now. 

I'm going to go bend over my pillows until I feel better.

In bed early,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Hermione,

I had to wait until after classes today to write this reply so I could properly concentrate and respond. I didn't mean to make you worry any longer than necessary with the delay. Please rest assured that there is nothing wrong with what you are feeling. While what we are doing is a bit off the beaten track when it comes to dom/sub relationships, it is what works for us; and that is the only guideline I intend to follow.

How do I know so much about all this? Experience. Nothing really happened to me after the final battle, except I lived. I wasn't just knocking at death’s door, I was sitting in his parlor having tea. To come back after that changed me in ways I wasn't prepared for. It was the first time I wasn't under someone else's control. It was finally my life, and in many ways I wasn't all that happy with it. I don't pretend to be an expert on life, but I have seen enough to know what to expect.

I can be calm with you because you allow me to be. I never have to be on guard around you because I know what kind of woman you are. Manipulation and deception are foreign concepts to you. Your thoughtfulness precludes any cruelty. There is still some residual mistrust in the back of my mind, but it quiets a little each time we meet. When I saw you that day at the Leaky Cauldron, it took a conscious effort to let go of the past and see you as the witch with whom I had been corresponding and not the swot who used to drive me up the wall. But you saw who I could be rather than who I used to be. That's not an opportunity I'm offered every day.

I have absolutely no intentions of abandoning you. If there ever comes a time when you no longer want my help, we will work that out amicably. But for now this arrangement benefits us equally. It is healthiest for us both to just enjoy the moment. We can deal with whatever the future brings when it happens. I find a great deal of peace in our meetings. Like you, I don't want that taken away. This is my outlet as much as it is yours.

When I spank you, I do usually feel calm. All my focus in on you: your reactions, your emotions, the color of your bum, etc. I don't have to think about work or life. It's the only time my brain isn't divided into multiple tasks. It isn't really a job or recreation, but I do like to do it well, and it is pleasurable. I enjoy aspects of it (watching your red bum jiggle is hypnotic), but mostly I'm so engrossed in the process it becomes less analytical and more intuitive. Do you remember what I said about following life's flow or fighting it? When I'm with you, I'm following it.

I think your anxiety about Barnabas is bleeding into the other areas of your life. I can't make you not worry, but I can assure you that you have nothing to fear when it comes to our involvement. My goal with you is to put a damper on the distress. And this is exactly what I meant by being honest. You are not ruining anything. I can't set your mind at ease if I don't know what's eating at you. 

I'd like you to expand your nightly visualization. I want you to think about something we've done that makes you feel safe and calm. If it's spanking, that's fine. If it's sex, that's fine. If it's sitting in my lap, that's fine. Its totally up to you (and I would like to know what you choose). Breathe deeply and slowly. If you get upset at work again, do the same thing. Tell me how it makes you feel. 

Write to me as soon as you get this (unless it's time to go to bed). I want to know you're all right.

Be good,  
  
Severus  
  
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Dear Severus,

I fell asleep earlier than expected last night, so I'm writing you from work. Herbert is getting us some Polyjuice so we can spy on Barnabas's house. 

I felt much better after I got your letter last night. I cried for a bit (not bad crying, just relief) then I took a bath and did what you asked me to do. I thought about sitting on the couch with you stroking my hair. It didn't make me horny the way thinking about spanking does, but it did make me really relaxed. I must have been extra tired, because I fell asleep super early. I had a dream about you kissing me in the middle of an intersection (it must not have been a busy street—there weren't any cars). That's all I really remember.

You are so different than you used to be. I wish you would show everyone what you can really be like. I'm glad you're not scared off by my feelings (I know there're a lot of them). I put on a show for other people too. I don't want them to worry about me; they have their own problems. But I guess you need to know everything if you're going to help me.

Does being with me really make you feel better? I'm glad if it does. I want to give you back some of the peace and happiness you've given me. I know how much effort you're putting into this, and I feel a bit selfish that I want even more of you. I want to see you right now. And later tonight. And at dinner. And in my shower. And in my bed. And when I wake up. Crooks is a fine companion, but cats can't hug you. Can you come over on Friday? I'd really like it if you stayed the whole weekend. I don't want you to think I'm just after your cock; we could just spend time together. But if you do want to spend all weekend in my bed, I wouldn't object.

Herbert is back. I'll write you tonight when I get home. 

I miss you,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Dear Hermione,

I'm glad you're calmer and that you slept more. Only one more class to go, so hopefully I will remain unscathed. I don't see how I could be injured if they're just reading the chapter, but I won't put anything past them.

Just to make it clear, I do NOT want to show anyone else this side of myself. You are the exception. I have very little concerns about you using my emotions against me, but the world as a whole has not earned that trust. Not everyone is as scrupulous as you. 

Your feelings do not scare me. They allow me to see how alike we are. You can tell me anything. I doubt you're thinking anything that would surprise me. I don't mean you're predictable or common, it's just that you're an open book and words aren't always necessary. You should see your face when I'm inside you. There's a running ticker across your forehead broadcasting your every thought. 

Yes, I'll come over Friday and, yes, I'll stay. Two more bloody days. I hope I survive. Thursdays are first-years and seventh-years. They're diametrically opposed but equally likely to blow something up.

I'll see if I can get someone to cover my shifts this weekend.

Friday can't come soon enough,  
  
Severus  
  
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Dear Severus,

Our stakeout didn't get us anywhere. No sign of Barnabas. I spent the day in the body of a thirty-seven-year-old maintenance man who works at the Ministry. Polyjuicing into wizards is so bloody weird. I don't know how you function with your dick constantly rubbing against everything. Using the loo was like a carnival game. I just gave up and sat down. Don't tell anybody, but I wanked in the toilets at the park. I just wanted to see what it was like. It didn't take much time, and it did give me a some new ideas about what I should do to you. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to look that maintenance man in the eye again after the way I used his body like that. I bet he never considered the idea that a witch might be the one turning into him and that she'd know what his bits looked like afterward. (I'm positive he never thought about what else I did.)

I can't wait to see you Friday. I bought something on my way home today. It's a little leather paddle. There's a boutique close by where I bought my other toys. I liked when you used the slipper on me. I thought maybe this would be the same but a little rougher. I'm going to test it on myself tonight just to see how it feels. When you come over on Friday you can "correct" me for whatever reason you like. I haven't done anything wrong, but I'm sure you can think of something.

Miss you,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Miss Granger,

I'm surprised at you—wanking in the loos in a borrowed body. Your curiosity is understandable, but that was extremely inappropriate. I've never "Polyjuiced" myself into a woman, so I can't comment on the oddity of the sensation. However, if the tables were turned, I doubt you would want some stranger handling your goods. That was very naughty.

Okay, I have to admit, you got a laugh out of me. And I suppose your inappropriate touching wasn't for naught if I'm to benefit from it. But I think you've given me ample reason to put you over my knee this weekend. Maybe I need to show you how I punish little girls who don't demonstrate sound judgment.

Or maybe a week is too long for you to go between sessions. It's a good thing I'll have extra time with you this weekend. Somebody's going to be sleeping on her stomach when I'm through with her.

I have to go to bed. Tell me about your experiment with the paddle tomorrow.

Be good (I mean it this time),  
  
Severus  
  
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Severus talked Sinistra into switching shifts with him on the weekend. He didn't mind taking the Monday night curfew patrol. He'd have the whole weekend open if Hermione was serious about seeing him all that time. Neither his first or seventh-years had caused any mayhem that day, so he was in a decent mood as he made his way to the Great Hall for dinner. Tomorrow was Friday, and he couldn't wait for an entire weekend of freedom.

Taking his seat next to Minerva, he nodded at her greeting. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was still eyeing him and conjecturing about his private life. _She's probably wondering what kind of witch would put up with me._

They’d made it through most of the meal in companionable silence when she nudged his elbow and gestured toward the ceiling. Hermione's crested owl swooped over his head and dropped a small scroll into his lap. That bird's accuracy was disturbingly precise. The scroll was too tiny to be a letter. He unrolled it and winced.

_Barnabas is dead. Please come over._

"I need to leave," Severus said quietly.

Minerva's amusement vanished instantly. "What? For how long?"

"Maybe all night. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Do you have duties tonight?"

"Dungeon patrol from 11:00 to 11:30."

She scrutinized him, sizing up his mood. "This witch had better be worth it, Severus. I can't just keep pawning off your duties on everyone else."

He nodded once and rose to leave. "I'll take whatever they want to switch with me as long as it's not on the weekend."

" _All_ weekend?" 

Snape gave her a dark look. "Don't start with me."

Sighing, she nodded. "I'll find someone. We'll discuss it later."

He went to his room for his cloak and got out of there as fast as possible.   
  
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Wrapping his knuckles against the door, Snape felt a strange sense of deja vu. Hadn't it just been a week ago that he'd come over because Barnabas was missing? This would devastate her. All those hopes she’d pinned on saving Barnabas had been dashed in one fell swoop.

She opened the door, and his gut twinged when he saw the sorrow streaking her face with wet tears. She was in her maroon bathrobe, her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail atop her head. He’d never noticed how lovely her neck was before.

She took his hand and pulled him inside. Severus shrugged off his cloak and let her lead him to the couch. Expecting her to curl into his lap, he was surprised when she started to unknot her sash.

“Please, sir. I need a spanking on my bare bottom,” Hermione said, sniffling.

Severus put his hands over hers, stopping her from disrobing. “No, Miss Granger,” he said softly, closing her lapels. “A spanking is not what you need right now.”

"Yes, it is!" she protested, her voice louder than intended. The tears came faster, and she angrily wiped her face. "Long and hard. Please hurt me, sir."

Severus heard the panic in her voice. She was about to snap. “You do not deserve a long, hard spanking. I will not be party to your self-destructive fancies." He wrapped his hands around her waist. "I know you're angry, and that's a perfectly valid way to feel; but punishment is for correcting behavior. There is nothing in your behavior that needs changing, because you did absolutely nothing wrong." He pulled her into him, urging her to sit in his lap. “Come here and tell me what happened.”

Hermione wanted to pound the walls with her fists and scream at him until he beat her arse to a pulp. But he was making that impossible. His arms wrapped around her, trapping her against him. Her jittery anger cracked under his warmth, spilling out the hysterical sobs hidden behind her thin veneer of sanity. She was broken. Her heart was broken. Everything was broken.

Snape gathered her up closer, pressing her head against his shoulder, hugging her tightly. “It’s all right,” he whispered into her hair. “Get it all out.”

She did. And then some. She was scared she was never going to stop. The more he stroked her back, the more she cried. The grief was eating a hole in her belly. She’d failed Barnabas. He was dead because she couldn’t save him. This was all her fault.

When she seemed to be tiring and her tears slowed, Severus moved one hand to her head to stroke her hair. If this was what calmed her most, he’d do it until sunrise. He didn’t want her to cry, but he didn’t want her suppressing her emotions any more than she already did. She couldn’t hide from the sadness. She had to feel it. Once it had had its way with her, he would help her piece herself back together. 

“Let me clean off your face,” he murmured, digging through his robes for his wand.

She refused.

Snape nudged her chin with his fingers. “Don’t be ridiculous. Look at me. You can’t even breathe. Let me help you.”

She cringed, hiding in his shoulder. “Don’t look at me. I’m ugly.”

He understood. It wasn’t her appearance she thought was unlovable, it was her imperfections. He’d avoided mirrors for the better part of twenty years, never looking himself in the eye until after the war. To see her so blinded by that same pain stabbed at his heart like a rusty dagger. “You are not ugly, Miss Granger. You are the most beautiful witch I know. Inside and out.”

“No, I'm not.”

He turned her face toward him and met her puffy gaze. “I wouldn't lie to you.”

Hermione blinked as he siphoned the snot from her sinuses and vanished her tears. She felt much lighter without all that mucus. When he was done, he pressed his lips to her forehead. The sweetness of it made her cry again, but something shifted inside her. Although she was still sad, there was also a strong sense of relief flooding through her chest.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” he asked softly.

She turned her face to the wall behind him, whispering so maybe it wouldn't be true yet, “He was found in a small pond at a park less than a kilometer from his house. His neck was snapped.”

Severus hugged her tighter. “Did you find him?”

“I was at the scene, but Herbert identified him for the Aurors. I couldn't stand to see him like that again.”

“Have they arrested his master yet?”

“No. But Harry said they'd turn his house upside down, and if they found anything suspicious, they'd haul him away to Azkaban.”

“I'm so sorry about Barnabas,” Severus murmured. “You did everything you could for him.”

Her face crumpled. “Then why is he dead?”

Snape sighed, considering how to answer her. “Because there are bad people in this world. But you are not one of them.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

“You're already doing it. Barnabas deserves to be mourned.”

She cried softly for a while longer, and Severus stoked her head as he thought about how he could help her get past this. The way she'd begged for that spanking earlier was a huge clue. She wanted the pain to silence her sorrow. Her world was falling apart, and she needed him to put some order back into it. But he didn't want her trading one hurt for another at a time like this. She needed stability right now. He could give her the strength she craved without resorting to physical displays of dominance. 

Hermione had sobbed herself to exhaustion. Sniffling against his robes, she leaned into him and closed her eyes. Her body heaved out a deep sigh, too knackered to cry anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Severus whispered.

“Tired.”

“I know you’re still sad, but are you calmer now?”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus smiled. She was ready for him to take care of her. “Have you had dinner?”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Why don’t I run you a bath? I’ll make you a sandwich while you get warm.”

“How long can you stay?”

“All night.”

She looked up at him. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He got out his wand and cleaned her face again. “Let’s make that a hot bath. You must be chilled to the bone in that robe.”

She got off his lap, feeling shaky and drained. He put his arm around her and steered her to the bathroom. While he plugged the drain and started the water, Hermione couldn’t help thinking how odd it was to see him doing something so normal. So kind.

Severus stood before her, meeting her watery gaze as he untied her sash. Her robe dropped to the floor in a heap, and he smiled softly at her nudity.

Hermione shivered as he drew his fingertips over her clavicle.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “I missed this.”

“What?” she asked, looking down, wondering what part of her body inspired him most.

He tilted her chin back up. “Being with you.”

A tentative smile pulled at her lips. “I missed you.”

That wasn’t something he was used to hearing. He was starting to fancy it. He ran his hand along her neck, skimming his fingers over the soft skin of her upper back and shoulders. "Let's get you in the tub."

Hermione let him lead her over to the tub and help her in. He held her hand as she stepped over the edge then he waited while she sat in the steamy water. 

"I'll go find you something to eat." Severus shrugged out of his robes and set them on the counter. “What would you like? Turkey?””

“You don’t know where anything is,” she objected.

“Are you serious?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “I’m guessing bread is under ‘B.’ A blind man could make a meal in your kitchen.”

She blushed but smiled. “Turkey’s fine.”

He nodded and left. Hermione curled into herself and tried to get warm. She didn’t know having someone draw her a bath and make her a sandwich would be such a relief. Those weren’t particularly difficult tasks, but for some reason having him do it for her felt like a mini-break.

Severus left her to stew and headed for the kitchen. Her cat was in there, doing a decent impression of a moth-bitten orange rug. Severus nodded at him and started rifling through her cabinets. The Slytherin in him couldn’t resist moving a stack of glasses an inch to the left. He found some turkey in the refrigerator (in the "T" section of the meat drawer) and with some lettuce and tomato made her a sandwich. He stacked the ingredients in alphabetical order for her.

As he left, Severus stooped down and offered her cat a bit of leftover turkey. “Here, kitty.”

Crooks sniffed his hand then licked the turkey into his mouth, meowing a farewell to his new meat fairy.

Severus went back to the bathroom and found her just as he’d left her. She was staring dejectedly at the water trickling from the spigot. He knelt down beside the tub and held out the sandwich for her. “Bon appetit.”

Hermione smiled weakly and took the sandwich. “Merci.”

Severus ran his finger over her shoulder, watching her for a few seconds. The attention seemed to embarrass her, because she looked away as if she didn’t want him to see her eat. He left her to her meal and sat back, unfastening his cuffs and slowly rolling up his sleeves.

Hermione watched him from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t help letting her gaze linger on his forearm. The scar was concealed, but she knew where it was. She wondered if he hid his for the same reason she hid hers. Maybe it reminded him of a part of his life he’d rather forget.

Severus saw her eyes scoping out his arm. Was she remembering his days as a Death Eater, or was she just curious? He hoped it was just curiosity. Being with her was the one time he didn’t have to think about all the mistakes of his past. He didn’t want her reminiscing about who he no longer was.

Scooting next to the tub, Snape picked up the flannel and dipped it in the water. When he ran it over her back, she sighed and rested her face on her knees. He carefully washed her back while she finished her food. He could see the tension melting from her body. It was so easy to care for her. She seemed to appreciate the smallest of gestures. Letting his fingers trail down her spine, he smiled as she moaned softly.

No one had bathed her since she was a child. It was odd, but soothing. When he finished with her back, he started on her arm. She smiled at him and closed her eyes. She could finally breathe again.

“Turn your back to me,” he murmured.

Hermione did as he asked, wedging herself sideways in the tub. His arm came around her, and he squeezed the water from the washcloth over her chest. The water gushed over her breasts, warming her nipples in the stream. As soon as the warmth was gone, her nipples tightened in the cold air, erecting two sharp peaks for his waterfall to sluice over on his next pass. She could feel his breath on her neck; the soft in and out breezed over her skin. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back to his chest as he started on her other arm. When he was through, he ran his fingers up and down the limb as if making sure he'd gotten off all the soap. Her smile grew. He wasn't checking for anything, he was just touching her.

Severus curled his arm around her chest again, watching her from over her shoulder. She obviously loved what he was doing. She was practically purring with pleasure. As he soaped her sweet tits, he used his other hand to rinse her, brushing his fingers over her breasts. He didn't want her to think he was using her or trying to make her forget about Barnabas. He wasn't. He just wanted to touch her. It calmed him in ways he couldn't define.

Kissing her temple, he tossed aside the flannel and gently cupped her left breast in his right hand, feeling her heart thump against his fingers. “I want to wash every inch of you,” he whispered. “But I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Hermione was torn. What he was doing felt bloody amazing, but guilt niggled her stomach like a wriggling worm. Maybe Barnabas could see what she was doing from the beyond. How could she even entertain sexual thoughts at a time like this? “Are you just going to wash me?”

“Yes. If you like. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of you.”

She put her hand over his. “It feels really really nice. I just . . ."

“Feel guilty?”

“Yes. Am I that obvious?”

“It’s a perfectly natural way to feel,” he said as he found the soap. He smoothed it over her abdomen and then brushed away the suds underwater. “Pleasure can feel wrong when we’re so aware that someone else will never know pleasure again.”

She blinked away the tears prickling behind her eyes and took a shaky breath.

“But sometimes pleasure can reaffirm that we are still alive,” he said softly, kissing the side of her face. “Sometimes people need to prove to themselves that they can still feel good after they’ve felt so bad.” His hands slid down to her hips, the base of his rolled sleeves dipping into the water. He didn’t mind. His shirt would dry.

He started on her thigh, running the slick soap slowly over her skin under the water and then brushing away the remains with his other hand. Hermione closed her eyes. He was being so sweet. She didn’t deserve such kindness. “I feel like a monster for what I’m thinking.”

He turned her face to him with one wet finger. “You are not a monster. Wanting to feel something pleasant isn’t wrong. Barnabas wouldn’t want you to suffer. I’m sure he would only wish happiness on the witch who showed him such kindness.”

Severus was right. Barnabas had been eager to see everyone comfortable and taken care of. Even the man who had killed him. Severus kissed the corner of her mouth and went back to washing her leg. Hermione watched his long fingers glide over her skin, but all she could think about was Barnabas’s bulging eyes filled with tears. What must he have gone through at the end? And he’d been all by himself. She knew how awful it was to be alone and scared.

“I feel so bad for him,” she whispered.

Snape nodded and slid around to get her other leg, stroking her thigh. “I know. And I’m sure he knows too. You’re allowed to feel bad for him. But don’t mistake that feeling for responsibility. You didn’t kill him. You are no more to blame for his death than you are for anyone else’s. Feel sad all you like, but don’t twist that pain into guilt that doesn’t belong to you.”

Damn. He _could_ read her. Like a book. The tears spilled over, running silently down her cheeks. “How do I stop blaming myself?”

Severus stilled and set the soap back in the dish. He had to think about that. “By focusing on what you can do rather than what you can’t.” His fingertips grazed her muff. “I know you’ll continue to fight for those most in need. Just like you always have.”

His hand cupped her pussy, and Hermione turned to look at him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Because he’d promised to help her. Because it felt good to not be an cynical ass for once. Because someone needed to take care of her. “Because I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. You don’t deserve that kind of pain.” His finger wiggled between her lips, softly wiping through her folds. “You deserve to be happy.”

Hermione turned around in the tub, wrapping her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, saying nothing about how she was soaking his clothes. “Thank you, Severus. You deserve to be happy too.”

No. He didn’t. But he wasn’t about to argue with a tearful witch who had her wet, naked body pressed against him. He was there to help her, not have his past washed away.

“I guess I’m not going to need that shower tonight,” he teased, kissing the side of her throat. “Are you still tired?”

She nodded and buried her face in his neck.

“Then I’ll take you to bed and tuck you in. Would you like that?”

“Yes, sir.”

His mouth curled into a smile. “We’re almost done here. Just give me a second.” He kept her against him with one arm and found the flannel, setting it on her lower back. “I said every inch.” 

The flannel slid between her cheeks, and Hermione sniffled a surprised smile into his neck. It was embarrassing in weird way that left her feeling cared for.

“Now the day’s washed away,” he purred with a peck to her cheek. “You can rest easy.”

She would rest easier, but it would be because he was there with her. He helped her from the tub and carefully dried her off with a fresh towel. If anyone could see how patient he was being with her, they’d think she had him under an Imperius.

He took her by the hand and led her to her room, turning down the comforter and then covering her back up. She smiled at him and wiggled down between the sheets. She usually slept in pajamas, so being naked felt strangely sensual, all of her nerve endings flaring to life.

Severus put his boots at the foot of the bed so he could find them in the morning, and then he walked around to the other side of the bed. He started to get in next to her when she leaned up on her elbow.

"Aren't you going to take off your clothes?"

"Do you want me to?"

She nodded. 

"I don't want you to feel like you have to do something just because we're naked."

"Okay."

He unbuttoned his shirt, noticing the way her eyes darkened. She curled on her side and watched him pull off his trousers. He hooked his thumbs in his boxers and asked, "Everything?"

She smiled. "Yes, please." Having him leave on his boxers would be like putting shorts on Michelangelo's David. He was bloody beautiful.

Severus laid out all his clothes carefully so they wouldn't get wrinkled then he set his black boxers on top and climbed into bed with her. She snuggled into him immediately, laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arm around him. She was still quite hot from her bath, which provided a stimulating contrast to the cold sheets. With a deep sigh, she curled into his side and slid her foot against his calf. 

Stroking his thumb along her shoulder, he glanced around her bedroom. There were two watercolors on one wall: one a purple iris, the other a cluster of bluebells. They were nicely done. All the other walls were bare. He wondered why she didn't keep any photographs in her bedroom. They were all in the other room. Bringing up her parents at a time like this was a bad idea; he'd ask some other time. He preferred to stay quiet anyway. If she wanted to talk, she would. Silence was fine by him. Waving his hand, he put out the light.

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling the tickle of his chest hair against her cheek. It was nice lying in bed with him for no reason. Sex had always been a precursor to sleep where he was involved, but now they were just resting together. “Severus?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“You’re welcome. Try to get some sleep. It's been a rough day for you. Whatever you have to think about can wait until tomorrow."

That actually made her feel quite a bit better. Usually her thoughts raced round like a snitch on the Quidditch pitch. She could never clear her mind, but just putting her thoughts on hold seemed feasible. "May I kiss you goodnight?"

He glanced down in her direction. "Of course you may."

Hermione shimmied up his body, touching his face in the dark to find his lips. His jaw felt rough. He probably hadn't shaved since that morning. Her fingers ran over his lips, his breath a heated wisp on the pads of her fingertips. Her lips found his, and she kissed him softly. She was slightly off target, but he turned his head and kissed her back, bringing them into alignment. She wanted him to snog her into unconsciousness.

Severus felt her tongue tapping his lips. Pulling away, he ran his fingers over her cheek. "Don't get me going. I don't want to lie here all night with my dick hard and ready."

Hermione ran her hand down his throat, memorizing the contours of his body. His Adam's apple bobbed under her fingertips. “Are you still coming over this weekend?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t want to be a burden. This must be depressing for you.”

“You are not a burden. This arrangement is about me helping you. That isn’t a strain. It’s exactly why I’m here.”

"I don't like feeling sad."

"Most people don't. But it is necessary. Without it we wouldn't be human."

Hermione fell asleep thinking about that. Being a human was hard.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione woke before the sun, her bladder jabbing her belly. She didn't want to wake Snape, so she slowly and gently let him go and rolled out of bed. 

"Where're you going?" he mumbled.

"The loo."

"Hurry back. I'm cold."

Hermione smiled to herself as she tiptoed down the hall. It was bloody freezing walking about the flat with no clothes. The toilet was a icy seat of torture. She tried to curl in on her legs to keep warm. Not wanting to turn on any lights, she fixed her fallen hair in the dark, wrapping it back up into a bun. She popped a Breath Bright mint in her mouth so she wouldn't scare off Snape when she went back to bed. Crookshanks came to the door as she was finishing up. He meowed at her as if to say "that man is still here."  

She scratched Crooks on the head as she passed and whispered, "Don't be jealous. I still love you."

Severus cast a Breath Eraser charm on his mouth while she was gone and then reached under the blankets to test his cock. He'd woken up in the middle of a high tide of hormones, and his dick was hard as a rock. If she came back and happened to run her hand below his waist, she was bound to find it. He didn't know how she would react, but he wanted to play it on the safe side with the Breath Eraser charm.

The only light in the room was coming from the streetlights leaking around her window shade. He could just make out her shadowy form creeping through the door and edging up to the bed. She quickly got back under the blankets, shivering and curling into him for warmth. Smiling into the darkness, Snape wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his chest. The sharp tips of her nipples grazed his ribs, and he reached over and lightly ran the side of his finger back and forth across one gathered tip. "The bathroom must be colder than I remember."

She smiled and petted his hand, dragging her nails lightly over his wrist and forearm. "Bloody freezing."

"Are you ready to go back to sleep?"

"I'm kind of awake now."

"What time is it?"

"About four."

"We did fall asleep at nine something. My inner clock is going to be in another time zone today."

Hermione looked up at him in the dark. She could just discern the pale hook of his nose and the angular lines of his cheeks and forehead. His fingers left her breast, and she reached out and brought his hand back. She could see the flash of his teeth in the shadows as he smiled. "Severus, what do you think happens when we die?"

 _Bloody hell,_ he sighed. "That's a rather heavy question for four o'clock in the morning."

"I know. It's just . . ."

"You're thinking about Barnabas. And in turn, everyone else."

"Yes."

He considered his answer for a few seconds longer. "I honestly don't know, Miss Granger. Sometimes I don't think anything happens, we just blink out like a candle. Or maybe we dissipate into everything and lose our sense of self. Or maybe the Hindus are right and we come back again."

"Do you really believe in reincarnation?"

"I think it's a possibility. If nature has taught us anything, it's that life has a cycle of renewal."

"I hope Barnabas gets to come back as something good."

"No matter what death is or isn't, he's free now."

"Have you ever seen a house-elf come back as a ghost?"

"No. People seem to be the only ones unwilling to move on."

Hermione slid her hand under the blanket, running her fingers over the hair lining his belly. He felt so different than her. The hard planes of his muscles lay right below the surface, solid and strong where she was soft and giving. His body hair was thickest around his belly button, and it made her want to pet him. He was a nice balance of smooth skin and fun furry bits she couldn't help running her fingers over. She suddenly understood what he'd said earlier about affirming the pleasure of living. Just running her hands over him was an experience she was glad to be having. She was alive. Avoiding the joys of this world wouldn't make her happier or bring back anyone who had passed on. _Life is for the living._ All she could really do for Barnabas now was find him some justice. She could do that.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're still alive."

No one had ever said that to him. Ever. He didn't know how to reply. "Are you?"

"MmHm. I was always glad that you were saved after the final battle, but now I'm glad because you're here with me. If I had known that you would be like this, I would have tracked you down at Hogwarts and hugged the hell out of you."

He laughed. "All that would have gotten you was my wrath. I wasn't up for physical contact until recently."

"And now you're making up for lost time?" she asked with an amused smile.

"Perhaps."

Her hand went lower, following the trail down to his pubic hair. Her fingers bumped into his knob, and it twitched against her fingers.

Severus closed his eyes as she brushed her fingers over his hard length. All her petting and stroking had left his dick straining with anticipation that it would get to be next. 

Hermione couldn't help grinning. Sometimes life was so good it was bursting at the seams. "Is this for me?"

 _It is now_. "That depends on how you're feeling."

"Better. Not as broken."

"Guilty?"

She sighed. "Not so much now. More like I want to go back to work to make sure this doesn't happen again."

That sounded healthy to him. "In that case, that is definitely for you."

Hermione ran her finger over the silky head, smiling as it leapt at her touch. "Is it time to show you my new skills?"

He covered her hand with his. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes."

"Then I think we should hold off on your oral showcase until another time. Why don't you come up here where I can see you."

Hermione slithered up his body and blinked as he made the lamp come on. He somehow dimmed the light, which was a feat not only because he did it wandlessly but because the bulb wasn't dimmable. His hair was all messed up from the pillow, and she smiled at how human he looked. Sinking her fingers into his limp locks, she nuzzled his huge nose with hers. His expression softened, and she kissed the corner of his sharp mouth. He met her lips and gave her several small pecks as if testing the waters. She latched on, gliding her tongue over his lower lip. He grunted quietly and deepened the kiss, sealing their mouths together.

The more she kissed him, the more he knew she was going to be all right. Now that someone had given her a safe outlet for her sadness and fear, she was no longer at their mercy. She would move through her grief without becoming trapped in the quagmire.

Kissing his way over to her neck, Snape rolled her partway onto her back and slid his thigh between hers. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

Hermione ground her pelvis into his leg and whimpered. The heat of his words on her neck and the pressure of his thigh against her sex was an excellent combination. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him on top of her, and his erection poked her hip. “I want you so much. Show me how good life can be.”

He smiled into her hair and went to work on her neck, licking and nipping her into an agitated frenzy. He had the urge to show her not only how good life could be, but how much better _he_ could make it. That was a foolish sentiment for him to entertain. Who knew how long this arrangement would last. One day she would see that she no longer needed him, or she would meet a man who could offer more than he could. But for right now, they had something special. Something he’d never had with another witch. Something that made him feel lucky for once in his life. “You are so sweet.”

The gravelly delight in his voice made her shiver. His mouth forged a path from her ear to her shoulder. By the time his teeth were grazing the line of her collarbone, she was mindless. If she ground her pussy into him any harder she was going to rub a bare spot in her pubes.

Snape started down her chest, smiling as she bucked against his belly. His torso was ribbed for her pleasure. Mouthing the sides of her breasts, he avoided her pink nipples, letting her writhe under him like a trapped tiger.

He gave her tight nipple one long lick then went to the other side to keep her even. Her pussy twitched with every wiggle of his tongue. Hermione could feel her excitement leaking from her slit. He kept going back and forth, lapping her tips to craggy peaks. When she was certain her pussy was going to overflow, his lips sealed around her areola and sucked her right tit into his mouth. Her sex throbbed in time with his suckling.

Her needy whimpers morphed to moans of satisfaction. Both her hands were in his hair now, stroking his head and holding him closer. He switched to the other side, repeating the process until her nipple was deep in his mouth, hot and hard against his tongue. He tickled his fingers down her smooth belly and pressed his whole hand against her vulva. She was so ready he could feel a wet line of cream marking the center of his palm. Her pink pussy was begging for him to enter her, her lips already parted, awaiting his grand entrance. He couldn't wait to go down there and get a eyewitness account of how much she wanted him. 

Licking his way down her torso, he pushed the blankets and sheets aside and guided her knees up to her chest so he would have a unobstructed view. The shine was radiant.

"Oh, pet," he murmured. "Is this for me?"

Hermione grinned at the ceiling. He'd never called her pet before. He'd never called her anything except Miss Granger. It sounded nice coming from him, as if he was going to take care of her. As if she belonged to him. She felt a bit silly being so turned on by something that had probably been a thoughtless endearment said with no pretext. "It's all yours.”

Severus breathed in the aroma of her arousal. She smelled delicious. He could make a fortune bottling that scent. Her lips were all shiny and plump, and he nuzzled one juicy petal before slipping his tongue into her heat. That musky sweetness couldn't be matched. He slid over her clit, lapping up her luscious honey. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she shouted out a single "huh!" that went straight to his balls.

He tickled right at her opening, making her hips jerk toward his face. Hermione could feel every tiny tick of his finger in her swollen folds. That obscenely wet sound wasn't just his tongue; she was practically dripping on the bed. Everyone in the room (and possibly neighboring cities) knew just how wet she was.

Easing just inside her tight channel, he pressed at her inner tissue, rubbing and testing its fullness. How much more engorged could she get? Everything was pink and swollen, her entrance almost hidden. Sinking his finger deeper, he pressed against her puffy front wall. When he found the densest area, her leg jolted against his side. Curling his fingers into the bumpy patch, he let his tongue find a natural rhythm against her clit. 

Hermione's eyes closed, and she panted at the ceiling in a daze of delight. Her pussy streamed around his finger as her clit started to throb. He added another finger, and her muscles stretched around the digits. It made her want the thickness of his cock even more. His inner stroking got a little faster, and the energy built to a peak. "Unnnnnh!"

He grinned around her clit as her muscles started to spasm. She jerked so violently he almost lost his suction on her clit. The complete abandon of her orgasm was spellbinding.

"Bloody hell," she muttered.

"I'm not done with you yet," he rumbled, licking up some of her shine and starting to curl his fingers again. He let her clit rest and lapped through the bounty of her folds instead. 

Hermione moaned softly as he restarted the wettest pussy exploration on record. It sounded as if he was deep sea diving.

Severus kept the teasing slow, only giving her clit the occasional tickle to keep her going. When her pussy started to slosh, she'd be ready for more. Currently, she sounded like a nice juicy puddle; he needed her to sound like a waterlogged washing machine. The more excited she got, the more her inner tissue would swell, providing a nice snug cuff for his cock. He couldn't wait to sink into her strangling heat. He'd been absently keeping himself hard with his other hand, and he gave his dick a few more tugs to make sure it was primed for entry; it seemed to know what was in store, because it fully solidified in his hand as though a charm had been cast on it. "Are you ready for this?"

Her head was spinning with need. "Please fuck me, sir!"

He smiled and got into place, resting his hips against hers. Reaching down with one hand, he slid his swollen knob through her satin slit, slicking his dick in her pool of desire. Her hips jumped each time he skimmed her clit, and when he pressed near her opening, she moaned and spread her legs wider. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Her expression was pinched with need. Penetration would be sweet for both of them.

Snape pressed the tip right up to the edge, nudging her engorged entrance. "I missed this," he whispered. "I wanted to see you all week."

Hermione slid her hand to his chest and clasped her knees around his hips. "I wanted you too. I miss you every day."

Edging just his head inside, he closed his eyes as her sheath squeezed him in a warm hello. It was bloody perfect. Gritting his teeth, he gently eased out and then back in, pushing past that first barrel of muscle again and again. His balls were already clenching with excitement. Severus wiped his glans through her folds once more before pushing into that gushing girdle. Her body took him in, swamping him in creamy constriction. Deeper and deeper. He sighed when he felt the firm touch of her cervix bumping against his knob. His hips circled, working his length into every crevice of her cunny, stirring through her brew. The feeling went from his cock to his brain, a blissful bombardment of mindless sensation. Every brush of her hand over his chest pushed him deeper into that void. Opening his eyes, he met her gaze, watching her lids flutter and lower, a mirror of his own state. 

Settling down on his elbows, he pressed his chest to hers. Her fingers snaked along his scalp, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He touched his forehead to hers, rocking his cock in and out of her sweltering channel. Her breath puffed over his face, a constant, soft hum purring from her lips. Canting his head to one side, he kissed her. The buzz of her moaning echoed in the cavity of his mouth, dancing along his tongue and ringing in his teeth. Sinking his arms under her back, he cupped his hands around the top of her shoulders and held her closer. Her legs snared his hips, and he felt her feet prodding the base of his bum, urging him deeper as she met his strokes. 

Hermione was suddenly in another realm, pierced into a haze of tickling tongues and sweaty limbs, rocked into a cozy den of sex. She felt fabulously relaxed. He was fucking her into an altered state. Her hands pawed at his back, scratching him softly as he began to move faster. His skin was damp with effort, and she sank her nails into him, trying to keep hold.

Severus had to lift his lips from hers. He needed more air. Dropping his face to her neck, he caught his breath as his hips picked up the pace. His body was overheated, but his muscles still felt strong and ready for action. She kept kissing his neck, whimpering in his ear with every stroke. His balls seemed to think that sound was just for them; they twinged in tandem with the vibrations.

Her pussy twitched around him a few times, and her nails stabbed his back, her entire body clenching and arching into him. The band of muscle gripping his shaft suddenly tightened, making him grunt in pleasure. The inner undulations of her climax tore at his dick like a squall tearing apart a ship. He could only hold on and hope he didn't drown.

Hermione shouted in release as she crested the wave of her orgasm; he rode her though the curl of contraction. The throb in her core was mind-numbing. He growled loudly into her shoulder, and she felt his hips start to jerk against her as he came. She murmured his name as she floated in a sea of bliss, letting him flood her port with his seed. 

Severus slumped against her, trying to catch his breath as she petted his spine. The sharp burn of her scratch marks lined his back. He had no intention of healing them. He wanted the red sting to remind him of that moment as he went about his day.

"I'll miss you today," she whispered, pressing her lips to his sweaty neck. 

He would miss her too. "I'll bring over some more books for you tonight."

"And you'll let me suck your dick all I want, right?"

He picked up his head and looked at her, amused by her continued desire for him and feeling like the luckiest man on the planet. "Until you're full."

 


	7. I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

Severus hissed, locking his fingers in her hair. As soon as he’d arrived that night, she’d dragged him to the couch and made good on her oral promises. She’d attempted to remove his frock coat, but the draw of his bulging placket proved to be too much for her to resist. He was left to liberate the remaining balance of buttons on his own. Unfortunately, his attention span seemed just as limited as hers. As soon as her lips were nursing his knob, all thoughts of buttons were forgotten in a fog of fellatio. He knew he must look absurd with his trousers round his ankles and his frock coat askew, but who could focus on such a minor fashion faux pas when their brain was being sucked out through their loins?

Hermione smiled to herself, humming out a happy sigh around his sex. The heat of his rigid shaft against her tongue blurred the stark severity of the past week. The fuzzy warmth of his bollocks in her palm was the balm her brain needed to restore her sanity. Everything was stable and warm here. Strong. Safe. She tickled the back of his sac just to hear that growl of contentment on his lips again. His purrs calmed her the same way Crooks’s did—except Snape’s had the added bonus of filling her knickers with cream. Maybe he'd pull down her panties and go wading in her wetness when she was done with him.

She slid his foreskin up around his head and tucked her tongue into the pocket she’d created, giving his helmet a good spin shine. Severus's testes tightened, a portent of impending release. He didn’t want it to end yet. He was so damned relaxed. Perhaps relaxed was the wrong word. He was so damned senseless his brain had expelled every extraneous thought, leaving him with only the sweet sensations of her sucking. And her hands. Bloody hell, she was tapping and stroking him like a virtuoso violinist. He was about to hit the high note.

He wanted to tell her how much he adored her mouth, but the language department of his brain had gone on strike. All he could manage were animal grunts. He sounded like a caveman at a massage parlor.

Hermione felt him grow even harder in her hand. It was time for the coup de gras. Pulling her lips from his tip, she held his shaft loosely in her fingers, shifting his foreskin up and down over his purple head. With a wicked smile, she met his ebony eyes. Her stomach lurched up into her chest when she saw the way he was staring at her.

Severus realized she intended to watch this explosion; he quickly yanked his shirt out of the way and offered up his abdomen as her canvas. His scrotum drew tight, and he grunted as his body began to expel every ounce of the potion that had been brewing in his balls for the past hour.

His shaft throbbed under her fingers, and Hermione grinned broadly as his seed shot across his pelvis and then rained down over her hand like candle wax. It was beautiful. The tsunami of semen was the perfect finale.

“Fuck!” Snape slumped back into the couch. “Let me rest.”

Hermione milked the last pearl from his pipes and licked the tip of his shiny glans. _Let’s clean you up._ Lapping her way down to the dense thicket surrounding his stalk, she relieved him of the sticky evidence puddled on his pelvis, bathing him like a fastidious feline.

Crookshanks appeared from the shadows of the hallway and made his way to the kitchen, giving the couple a bored glance as he passed. Snape could swear that cat rolled his eyes at them. When they were alone again, Severus closed his eyes and smiled, welcoming the cleaning committee. He slipped his fingers into her hair and rubbed her scalp in appreciation. “You sure know how to start off the weekend with a bang.”

She smiled up at him. “And you sure know how to stretch my jaw to unheard of dimensions. I know how pythons feel when eating antelopes now.”

He snorted. “Are you really feeling better, or was this just an exercise in distraction?” Her eyes were brighter today, and she looked less drawn; but he needed to know how _she_ thought she was doing.

“I was a bit better today. I only cried once, but I saw Herbert crying too; so it wasn’t just me.”

“Just give it time. Have you had dinner yet?”

“MmHm. You?”

“Yes.” He ran his finger over her cheek, studying her eyes. If she was over the worst of her grief, maybe it was safe to play again. He didn’t want her to hide from her feelings, but she might need a break from reality. “What would you like to do tonight? If you need to relax, we can stay in; but if you’re up for it, we could go out.”

She perked up. “Go out?”

He smirked. She was ready. “I think it’s time for a field trip. There are something things we need.”

Her brows pinched together. “What?”

Severus started to re-dress himself. “I can’t answer that until I see what you already have. Go to your room and get out every toy you own. Set them on bed so I know what we’re working with.”

A smile spread over her face. She didn’t know what he was up to, but it sounded fun. “Okay.”

Severus pulled up his trousers and watched her walk away from him, her cute bum twitching under her tight jeans. He hurriedly fastened his trousers and followed after her, not wanting to miss anything.

Hermione kept the toys she used most in her bedside drawer. The rest were in a box in the closet. Opening the drawer, she began to display what she had on the bed.

Severus stood out of her way, taking inventory. A toy collection could reveal a lot about a person. The first thing she set down was a small blue and purple glass phallus. He kept his face passive, but inside he was derisively arching an eyebrow. It was too narrow and short to do any real work. Its solitary benefit would seem to be providing something to clench around as she came.

Next she laid out a teeny tiny pink anal plug that almost had him laughing. It was cute, but he was starting to feel like Alice in Wonderland after eating the enlargement cake. Everything seemed comically small. That plug was barely a finger wide. No wonder she was so sexually frustrated.

Next to those first two, she set a pair of spring-action, wooden clothespins. _Ah_. Now things were getting interesting. The poor man’s nipple clamps. She was a resourceful girl. He noticed she kept her eyes down the whole time, avoiding his gaze. She was embarrassed to be revealing her private life like this; that might serve him well later.

The little leather paddle she’d written to him about was next, and he nodded in approval. It was just small enough that he’d be able to slap her between the legs with it. He’d keep that assessment under wraps until the right time.

The last thing she set down was what appeared to be a long tongue with lips and a prodigious nose at the base. He picked it up as she went hunting in the closet. Pressing a button, the tongue waggled at him, waving about like a red eel. The other settings provided a wealth of alternate movements: side to side, circles in either directions, short and fast wiggling. The nose would nudge her nub nicely if she inserted the tongue vaginally, but otherwise it seemed to be mostly a novelty. He couldn’t help noticing the uncanny resemblance between his own nose and the toy’s. They looked as if they’d been separated at birth.

Hermione brought over a box from the closet, and he peered inside as she set it on the bed. There was a small smooth plastic vibe, an enormous flesh-colored and veiny sleeve for that vibe, a curved probe to find her g-spot, and a complex yellow vibrator with a cat at clit level, its paws outstretched to surround her nubbin like a ball of yarn. He picked it up and switched it on, grinning as it lit up and the beads at the base started to rotate like a merry go round. “This is entertaining.”

Hermione smiled.

“Why do you keep all your vibrators in the closet?” He pushed another button, and the cat paws began to vibrate on and off.

“Well . . .” she pointed to the smooth plastic one. “This one is okay, but I prefer my glass one. And the sleeve is way too big.”

“Why did you buy it?”

She blushed. “I didn’t. It was a gift.”

“I see.”

She pointed to the curved probe. “This one just kind of poked at me and got me really close without ever delivering the goods.”

“What about the Catapult here?” he asked, clicking it off.

She snickered. “It was just too intense.”

“You don’t like vibration?”

“Oh no, I like it all right. But it kind of made me numb after a while. I had to keep turning up the intensity to feel anything. Then when I would try to use my hand, it was like nothing was happening. I decided I preferred the simplicity of my hand. It’s always with me and doesn’t need batteries.”

He smiled. “Is this everything?”

“Yes.”

“What about that fancy shower head in the bathroom?”

Hermione grinned. “His name is Wellington.”

Snape snorted. “Because he’s your Waterloo?”

She nodded. “He’s a tactical mastermind.”

“He doesn’t make you numb?”

“Only if I leave it on the hardest setting for too long. But it goes away quickly.”

“What about this plug? This doesn’t hurt you does it?” he asked, holding it up.

“No.”

“How often do you use it?”

“Occasionally.”

He dropped it back on the bed. “All right. I think I know what we need. Let’s go get your cloak and get going.”

“Where are we going?” She followed him back out to the front room.

“You’re going to take me to the shop where you bought that paddle. They’re still open, aren’t they?”

Hermione smiled as he helped her into her cloak, picturing Snape in the little boutique. “I think so. They might close at nine.”

“Then we should get moving. That only gives us an hour.”

He opened the door for her, and they stepped out into the cold, clear night. She locked the door behind them, and he offered her his arm. Smiling like an idiot, she slipped her hand around his elbow, and they set off down the walk. She pointed left so he’d know which way to go once they got to the street.

There weren’t very many people about, the weather too cold to invite dallying. She didn’t mind the frigid winds though. This was almost like a date.

Severus was mentally creating a shopping list in his head when he realized he hadn’t heard anything about Barnabas all night. “How was work today?”

Hermione sighed. “It was okay. We’re having Barnabas cremated. My boss is paying for it.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“Herbert and I took him to the undertaker today. We’ll collect his ashes on Monday and scatter them someplace nice.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Barnabas would probably want to be given back that psycho, but there’s no way I’m doing that.”

“How about the wife and children?”

Hermione nodded with a small smile. “I hadn’t thought of that. She seemed pretty nice. I’ll owl her on Monday.”

“What will you do at work now?”

“I’ll be assigned a new case. There’s nothing more for us to do now that the Aurors have taken over.”

“You should put up a plaque at the pond where Barnabas was found—honor his memory.”

Hermione looked up at him. “That’s a good idea too. I’ll suggest it to Herbert on Monday. I think he’d like that.”

“Is Herbert married?”

She smiled. “Yes, for three years now. His wife’s about to have a baby. He’s so excited.”

The thought of another future student made him grimace. “I don’t recall having any Herbert in school. Is he from around here?”

“No, he’s from Canada. And his wife is from Italy. They don’t look like they go together at all.”

He glanced down at her giggling grin. “I don’t suppose we do either.”

Her brow lifted in surprise. “I’ve never considered it. I guess we don’t. Appearances can be deceiving.”

“What will you do if people find out about us?”

She stared up at him in horror. “Do you mean the ad?”

He smirked. “No. Just our general involvement.”

“Oh.” She relaxed. “I guess it’s their problem if they can’t handle us.”

“I don’t think Potter and Weasley are going to be thrilled that you’re sleeping with the enemy.”

She shook her head, smiling. “You are not the enemy. But you’re right, they would probably think I’d lost my marbles.”

“You’re not concerned about that?”

She ran that over in her head for a few seconds. “I love Harry and Ron, but they don’t have any say in my sex life. Honestly, Harry’s more concerned about his job and his family; and Ron’s busy with Quidditch. Neither one of them have much interest in what is or isn’t happening in my bedroom.”

 _They would if they knew I was the one warming your sheets._ “So you would continue seeing me even if everyone found out about us?”

The confused line between her brows reappeared. “Yes, of course. I’m not giving up the one good thing in my life because they’re a little uncomfortable with the idea.”

He stopped and turned her face up to his. There was no deception in her eyes, no guile in her expression. She really meant that.

“What about you?” she asked, putting her hand over his so they were both cupping her cheek. “Are you okay with people finding out about us?”

That would be a seriously awkward conversation with Minerva. He didn’t really want to be found out, but that was more of a privacy issue. If people knew he was seeing her, especially _why_ he was seeing her, their wrath would be aimed mainly at him. "I have absolutely no interest in gaining anyone's approval. My life won't be dictated by anyone but myself."

She smiled. “I guess I better practice telling people to mind their own business.”

He couldn’t keep the corners of his mouth from curling upward. Her delight was contagious. Bending lower, he kissed her forehead. “I’ll understand if you ever get sick of defending your association with me.”

Hermione held onto his cloak and pulled him down, pecking his lips. “You know how much I love spending time with you, don’t you? I need to see you to feel normal. I’m not letting go of that.”

He returned her kiss, wrapping his arms around her to protect her from the whipping wind and passing pedestrians.

Hermione ran her hand along his chest, slipping inside the warmth of his cloak for a better feel. He pulled back, a hint of smile playing on his lips. Hermione let her hand drop to his belt and tickled his navel. “We’re here.”

“We’re where?”

She gestured behind her. “This is it.”

“Well why didn’t you say something? Stop molesting me in the streets and go inside. It’s bloody freezing out here.”

She shook her head, laughing as she pulled him into Moonglow’s Erotic Boutique. His hand touched her back, urging her to the left towards the magazines and books. Hermione put her gloves in her pockets and opened her scarf as her eyes scanned the periodicals. The cover of Naughty By Nature had an entwined couple on the cover that caught her eye.

Severus looked around the store. It was the classiest sex shop he’d ever been in. It was obviously geared more towards women and couples. There was nothing unsavory or intimidating about the presentation or clientele. He followed her lead and pulled open his scarf, reading the magazine’s cover over her head. _Ten Positions to Melt Your Man. Oral Sex Tips from the Pros. Fall’s Newest Negligees._ He rolled his eyes. “Come along, pet. Why don’t you show me where you found that paddle.”

She grinned and took his hand, pulling him round the corner into the next room.

Severus blinked at the change in their surroundings. The room appeared to be bi-polar. One half was gauzy and sheer, a diaphanous production of gaudy romance that reminded him of Lockhart’s Valentine’s decorations. The other half was tastefully dungeon-esque. He knew what to expect from such a display, so he studied her face to see what her eyes lingered on longest. “Which shall it be, pet, the paddles or the canes?”

Hermione looked around to see if anyone could hear them. “Um . . . the cane,” she whispered.

He kept her hand in his and escorted her to an umbrella stand filled with a nice selection of canes. There were multiple lengths and widths, and he sorted through them, checking out the make and style. He hadn’t looked at implements in quite some time. He could probably spend hours going through their assortment of paddles and whips. He wouldn’t though. She seemed overly tense at the moment, standing next to him like statue, her eyes getting wider every time he chose a new cane. He wanted her to let go tonight, not have an aneurysm. Plucking out a straight-handled rattan model that was neither too thin nor too thick, he held it up to inspect it from all angles and then tested it against his hand. _Perfect_. The price was a bit steep, but he figured he was paying an extra ten quid for the store’s ambiance. Whipping it though the air, he tested the weight and flexibility, watching her from the corner of his eye. “This looks nice, don’t you think? The quality is excellent.”

He handed it to her to hold as he started investigating the paddles. Hermione looked down at the cane in her hand and couldn’t stop picturing herself bent over as he applied it repeatedly to her striped arse. She knew it was going to hurt, but the visual left her squirming in her wet knickers.

Severus picked up a large wooden paddle and ran his hand over the smooth plane on one side and the carved hearts on the other. When he smacked it against his palm, she jumped like spooked rabbit. “I like that little paddle you bought. Do you prefer leather to wood?”

She stared at the paddle in his hand without blinking. “Uh . . . I’ve no idea.”

He put the paddle back on the wall and picked up a wide strap with a handle. The leather had some weight and body to it, but it was giving and had a nice balance. “Come here, Miss Granger.”

Hermione crept up to him, never taking her eyes off the strap in his hand.

“Bend over. I want to check the size.”

“What? No!” She glanced around to see if anyone was watching. There was only one woman in the room, but she was over on the other side rummaging through a bin of silk scarves.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly. “I just need to see what it’s like in action. Just put your hands on your knees. No one’s looking.”

Hermione gave her surroundings one more nervous glance then closed her eyes and turned around, bracing her hands on her knees. 

Severus smiled and patted her bum through her clothes. “Very nice. I think we’ll get this too.”

Hermione bolted upright and spun around before anyone saw her like that. She wanted to bury her face in his cloak so no one could see how red her face was (including him).

Severus handed her the leather paddle to carry then started to peruse the rest of the aisle. He couldn’t stop picturing her modeling each item he passed: that riding crop would mark her round arse beautifully, those fuzzy handcuffs would fit perfectly around her little wrists, that ball gag would look like candy between her wet lips.

When they reached the corner of leather restraints with no further toys, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She was worried what else he might have in store for her, but at the same time, her gusset was sticky with anticipation.

“Uh . . . I don’t really have this kind of money,” she admitted, biting her lip. “I can probably pay you back in a couple of weeks.”

Severus couldn’t keep a straight face. “It’s all on me. Consider them gifts.”

“These are the scariest gifts I’ve ever gotten,” she muttered, staring down at the paddle in her hands. 

He chuckled and nudged her toward the first room. “All right, let’s go find you a decent set of anal plugs.”

She froze and looked up at him. “Are you serious?”

He nodded. “Some will be for fun, but others will be for correction. That one you have isn’t suitable for either.” 

Hermione’s feet started to walk on their own accord, letting him guide her back into the first large room they’d entered through.

There was a huge selection of plugs and probes on one wall, and Severus led her over to the anal array. She kept trying to obscure the implements she was carrying, embarrassed by the idea that everyone would know what they were going to do when they got home. He left her to her humiliated huddling and picked out a set of four plugs of increasing size. The littlest one was maybe a finger and a half wide and the largest one would probably never get used (but the girl needed something to focus on). “How about these? Silicone is easy to clean and they have nice rings on the base for easy removal.”

Hermione stared at the largest one, her throat going dry. “You’re scaring me.”

He smiled. “You don’t trust me?”

She looked up at him. She trusted him with her life. Her rectum was a whole other story. “I trust you. I just don’t think you understand the physical limitations of my sphincter.”

He laughed and pulled her into his chest. "We'll start with the smallest one. I promise you'll be begging me for it.”

She wasn’t so certain he could be that persuasive, but she didn’t think he would cause her any real harm.

He handed her the plugs and managed not to burst out laughing as her face went crimson. “Let’s find you a decent dildo too. I don’t know why you bother with that one you have.”

"Richard suits me just fine, thank you. I think we have plenty."

Snape led her over to the selection of glass phalluses. "Do you name all your toys?"

"No." She wasn't about to tell him that she'd taken to calling the tongue Professor.

"Come along, pet," he squeezed her shoulders. "Help me pick out something. I want you to love it."

"You do?"

"Yes, of course. I want you to have something suitable when I'm not around."

Hermione looked over the selection. She'd studied this display before. She knew what she wanted. Pointing to a handblown dildo with a bumpy shaft, she gave him a questioning look. "How about this one?"

Taking the box from the wall, he studied it closely. The length was good (more than she could use). It had a bulbous acorn-like head that would plumb her depths with ease. The whole thing was threaded through with yellow and green swirls, creating an artistic effect. "It's not very thick."

"I don't need it to be."

He smiled. "You don't like the way my cock fills you?"

Hermione couldn't help smiling back. "I love it. But you and a toy are two different things."

"This is really the one you want?"

"Yes, sir."

Severus choked back his snort. She may have been embarrassed and a bit scared, but she was ready to go home and be his sweet little submissive. Kissing the top of her head, he pulled her closer to his body, pressing his crotch into her side. "I know this has been a long week," he whispered. "I'm going to take such good care of you when we get home."

Hermione turned her blushing face into his chest. She wanted to disappear in the sanctuary of his arms, hide from the scrutiny of the other patrons. Their public display of affection was drawing some amused stares.

"They're just strangers,” he whispered in her ear. “What happened to my brave Gryffindor who tells people to mind their own business?” 

Hermione looked up and gave him a small smile. "I'm already slacking. You’d better take me home and spank me."

"I'll do more than that. Let's get this stuff paid for so we can correct this needy little bottom." He patted her backside through her clothes.

If her cheeks got any redder, steam was going to whistle out her ears. How did he always use just enough humiliation to make her face just as hot as her clit? He guided her up to the woman at the till, and Hermione set everything on the counter, not making eye contact. 

"Did you find everything you were looking for?" the clerk asked, ringing them up.

"I did," Snape answered. "How about you, pet? Did you want to ask if they had any super-absorbent knickers? I don't want you catching a cold on the way home."

Hermione's eyes bugged out at him. 

The shopkeeper grinned and shook her head. "Sorry. All our knickers are of the 'less is more' philosophy. You'll have to manually warm her up when you get home."

Snape bit back his laugh at Hermione's mortified expression. "I intend to."  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

They came in the front door, and Severus took the sack from her and helped her with her cloak. “Are you ready to be my good girl?”

Hermione looked at the floor and nodded, not wanting him to see how wide her grin had become.

“Do you own a pair of plain white cotton knickers?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to get them and then go in the bathroom and take off all your clothes. Do whatever you need to to get ready. Use the loo and pull up your hair. I don’t want any interruptions once we get going. And I want you to get a good look at your backside before we start. It's going to look very different when we're through. When you’re ready for your correction, put on your white panties and come to the bedroom. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Hermione nodded again. “Yes, sir.”

Sweet Circe, she needed this. It wasn’t just the sex and affection, it was the control. She loved having fun with him, and she definitely loved the way he shagged her; but this was a side of her sexuality she never got to let out with anyone else. He seemed to know that, and was giving her the opportunity to be herself.

Severus leaned down and kissed her head. “That’s my girl. Go ahead.”

Hermione dashed off to her room and found a pair of white cotton bikinis then hurried to the bathroom. She ripped off all her clothes and stared at her nakedness in the mirror for a minute. There was an urge in her to run back out there and kiss him into unconsciousness, but she knew that would happen later; it was time to switch over to her alternate persona. Being Snape’s submissive was so much easier than anyone would ever guess.

She emptied her bladder and then cleaned up, using her wand to make sure her arse was as clean as he required. Then she stood before the mirror again and got out some hair ties to restrain her curls.

When she’d finished all that, she stepped into her white knickers and turned around, checking her bum in the mirror. Everything looked good. She was more than ready for her correction.

Severus heard her open the bathroom door and cross the hall. She came into the room, and he bit his tongue to keep from grinning. Instead of a ponytail or bun, she’d gone with bunches. He hadn’t specified what he wanted, but he approved of her choice. If she wanted to be his naughty schoolgirl, he had no objection.

Hermione looked around. He’d cleared away all her toys from the bed, leaving out just the little paddle she’d purchased and the big paddle and cane they’d just gotten. He stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest and his sleeves rolled up as if he was ready to get down to business. His shoes, socks, and frock coat had been discarded elsewhere. These were his work clothes now.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then turn around and pull down your panties. It’s time for your inspection.”

Hermione whirled around and hooked her thumbs in the waistband. _Why’d I even have to put these on?_

“Slowly,” he warned. “Baring your body for me is part of submitting. It has a purpose. The humiliation reminds you who’s in charge. I know this excites you, and I adore your enthusiasm; but I want you thinking about each new inch you’re exposing, every curve and crevice revealed as you bend over. Present yourself to me.”

Hermione was glad he couldn’t see the hot blush creeping over her face. Or her grin. “Yes, sir.”

Severus nodded as she slowly peeled her knickers over her round bum. _Much better_. Her gusset stayed trapped between her thighs, only snapping free when she had the sides down to her knees. The cotton slackened and dropped to her ankles.

Hermione mashed her lips together, smiling at the floor when she felt his warm hand on her left cheek.

“That’s it. Just stay right there,” he murmured.

Hermione rested her hands on her shins, trying not to squirm as his fingers walked across her buttocks. Caressing her crack, he gently parted her cheeks, letting the light shine on her valley. He hummed a note of appreciation, which for some reason made her strangely proud. She kept expecting him to tap at her backdoor or dip his finger into her vagina to test her wetness, but no such relief presented itself. His eyes were doing all the inspecting this time. He moved his hands lower, using the base of her cheeks to pry open her pussy. She knew what he must be seeing. She could feel it dripping out of her. Cleaning up in the bathroom had only been momentarily effective. Apparently her body didn’t need actual skin-on-clit contact to turn on the waterworks.

“Spread your legs.”

She did, stretching her knickers taut between her ankles, waving her arse as the air cooled her steamy slit. She couldn’t help it. Her clit was already begging for his touch.

“We need to discuss what you did at the park,” he said simply, perking one eyebrow at her dancing derrière. 

“Yes, sir?”

“I think you know very well that that was inappropriate.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you deserve to have your bottom smacked?”

She didn’t know if she was dizzy with excitement or because all the blood was rushing to her head. “Yes, sir.”

“How long did it take you to get yourself off as a man?”

“Um . . . I guess a couple minutes.”

He gave her a quick smack to the right cheek. “You call me sir until your punishment is over. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

“I think tonight I’ll warm you up and then give you a hard spanking for the same amount of time you were wanking. Do you think that sounds fair?”

“Yes, sir.”

“After that we can introduce you to your new friends.”

Her eyes went wide. “All of them?”

“I wouldn’t want any of them to feel left out,” he quipped.

Hermione bit the smile off her lips. “Are you going to hurt me, sir?”

He ran his fingers over the red spot forming on her cheek. “I won’t say it’ll be entirely pleasant, but I want you to get a taste for each of them. The spanking is your punishment, not the toys.”

“Okay.”

“Do I need to add another minute? You can practice calling me sir until your bum blisters.”

“No, sir! I’m sorry. I won’t forget anymore.”

He nodded. “Then it’s time for your punishment to begin. Stand up and turn around.”

Hermione awkwardly turned to face him, her knickers waylaying her feet.

Getting down on one knee, Snape began to pull up her panties. Her eyes went dark as mahogany as she stared down at him.

Hermione had a vivid flashback of Halloween. He was putting her underwear back in place, dressing her like a toddler. It was both humiliating and arousing. He treated her like a work of art, adjusting them and smoothing them out until they looked perfect. She was confused why he was putting them back on at all.

He stood back up and gave her a stern look. “What do you need to say to me, young lady?”

She blinked blankly and then realized what he meant. “Um . . . It was wrong of me to touch my . . . I mean, that man the way I did. Please, sir, will you pull down my panties and give my bare bottom a hard spanking so I learn my lesson?”

Severus smiled and nodded. “That was very nice, Miss Granger; but those knickers are staying right where they are. They will remain on until I take them off. This is another correction at my disposal.”

Wouldn’t leaving on her knickers make whatever he did less intense? “Yes, sir.”

“All right. Let’s get that bottom warmed up before I light it on fire.”

Hermione gulped as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her over his lap. He didn’t let her straddle his thigh, he just turned her over his knee like a wayward child. She put her fingertips on the floor and tried to get comfortable.

“Don’t worry if those panties get wet." He smirked to himself. "They’ll help keep your mind focused on the site of your transgression.”

Hermione blushed as he started to lightly swat her backside. It didn’t hurt. All it did was make her wetter.

“Is there anything else you need to confess before we start this?” he asked between slaps.

“No, sir.”

“Have you been sleeping all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you been doing your best with your cleaning compulsion?”

She shifted around as the swats got a little harder. “Yes, sir. I left those glasses where you put them until dinner.”

He grinned. “I’m impressed. My estimate was an hour. How about your guilt over the war? Have you been blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault?”

“Um . . . not as much, sir.”

That meant yes. “Let’s do some reviewing before we start then. Say, ‘The war was not my fault.’”

She repeated him.

“Say, ‘I saved everyone I could.’”

“I saved everyone I could.”

“Say, ‘I’m getting better every day.’”

“I’m getting better every day,” she said through a grimace of discomfort. Things were getting a lot warmer in there.

“Are you?” he asked seriously, pausing his hand in midair.

“Well . . . I’m certainly better when you’re around,” she answered evasively—but not dishonestly.

Snape nodded, smiling to himself and smacking her arse again. “Just give it time. One day you’ll find the pain isn’t so sharp.”

Hermione grabbed onto his trouser leg as he laid his hand into her even harder. She did her best not to shout, but her whimpers and gasps were getting louder.

Severus spent another minute making sure she was ready for the spanking to come. Her body was writhing in his lap, jerking with every hit. He needed to decide right now how hard he was really going to spank her. He wasn’t particularly upset about what she’d done, he just wanted an excuse to get her over his knee. Making her cry right now would turn his stomach. She’d bawled enough this past week. That wasn’t what he wanted. She just needed to let go. Sometimes that required tears, but he didn’t want go that route tonight. He could take her to new heights without leaving her a blubbering mess. It would take time, but time was something he had plenty of. 

“All right,” he said softly, stroking her arse until she quieted. “Are you ready for the real thing?”

Hermione took a deep, fortifying breath and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Keep those feet down. Only undisciplined little girls kick like that.” That wasn’t true. Most witches kicked; it was a reflex. But he didn’t want her getting out of control.

Hermione straightened her legs. “Yes, sir.”

Snape smiled. “Two minutes. Show me what a good girl you can be.”

His hand came down on her arse like a gunshot; the sound made her jump more than the burn did. She winced as the sting settled, squeezing her eyes tight as he struck her other cheek. He was hitting her pretty hard, but he wasn’t going very fast. After ten good slaps, she realized he was going to keep that pace the whole time.

Severus kept his eyes on her wobbling backside. That jiggle should require a permit. And the way she was scuffing her feet against the floor just made the whole show more enticing. True to her word, she didn’t kick; but her efforts to restrain that urge were arousing him just as much as the warm glow of her rump. He liked that she was trying so hard to please him, and he definitely liked her control. But mostly he liked the way her bum quivered and shimmied on his lap. It was lovely. Her skin was the color of a freshly cut grapefruit. Grapefruit that could shake like jelly.

Hermione whined with each clap of his hand, hating the popping sting but loving the residual warmth. Had it been two minutes yet? She wanted to be his brave girl, but she needed a bloody break. Her arse was about to catch fire.

Severus glanced at the clock. Fifteen more seconds. He stopped. She was getting too tense. Rubbing the burn from her bum, he pulled her in closer and told her how well she’d done. She needed the praise as much as anything else. “That was excellent, pet. You did very well. Is your bum feeling nice and toasty now?”

Hermione caught her breath, relaxing in to his petting. “Burnt to a crisp, sir.”

He grinned. “I’ll let you rest before we move on.” He actually wouldn’t mind spending the whole night rubbing her arse.

Hermione gradually calmed down, his hands making her brain go as soggy as her pussy. She started to drift in and out of reality. He was going to stroke her into a coma.

Severus sensed the trauma had passed and patted her backside to get her attention. “Are you ready for the meet and greet? You certainly smell ready.”

Hermione’s eyes popped open. He was right. She could feel the wet spot soaking the center of her gusset. “I guess so, sir.”

“I want you kneeling on the bed, arse up in the air. Stay close to the edge so I can reach you.”

Slowly backing off his lap, she stood up and stumbled toward the bed to get in place. 

Severus helped her, easing her down so her bright red bum was propped in the air and her chest was pressed to the comforter. “That’s it,” he purred, standing up to get a good look at her. “You look perfect, pet. Let’s start with your little paddle first, shall we?”

He picked it up and got into position, tapping the leather against her rump. “Did you have fun experimenting with this one?”

She had. But she’d had complete control over the timing and impact. This was very different. Her skin prickled with adrenaline, making everything seem like a storm to her senses. “I pretended you were using it on me, sir.”

He smirked. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

 _Swack!_ The leather popped against her skin, leaving a hot spot that stung for a second then radiated with throbbing heat. It felt as if her arse had a heartbeat; then the heat spread, engulfing her pussy in its warmth. “Mmmm!”

The corner of his mouth curled up. _Swack!_ The other globe got a taste too. Carefully, he covered the crest of both cheeks, unable to restrain his growing smile as she moaned through each blow.

“Spread your legs,” he rumbled, tapping her inner thigh.

Hermione spread her thighs, knowing he must be able to see the wet patch on her knickers now. That just turned her on more. She wanted him to see what he was doing to her.

Severus grinned at the transparent blot marking the center of her crotch. The cotton clung to her lips, dipping into her slit like a second skin. He patted the curve of her vulva with the paddle. Her body jolted as it rang through her clit. “Look at this, Miss Granger. Your paddle fits you perfectly. What an excellent choice you made.”

Hermione gasped as he gave her sex a light slap. Tingling shot through her lips, making her arch her back for more.

“Yes, pet, I know what you need,” he murmured. Snape gave her ten more, slowly, watching her hips weave and sway with each blow. “Your pussy needs spanked just as much as backside, doesn’t it?”

Hermione’s mouth was too dry to talk. She couldn't believe what he’d done to her or how much she liked it. She finally croaked out, “Yes, sir.”

Severus tossed the paddle aside and ran his finger over the growing lake in her gusset. She shivered and pressed toward him. Pulling away with a chuckle, he picked up the leather paddle he’d bought that night. “Not yet, pet. There’s someone else I’d like to introduce you to.”

Hermione dug her fingers into the bedding and panted as he tapped the thick leather against her bum. _Oh God!_ He just kept rubbing her and patting, making her wonder when the blow would land. Each little brush and bump grazed her labia, and she couldn’t resist helping it make better contact.

 _Thwack!_ The leather slapped both her cheeks at once, snapping her out of her haze. It was so different from the little paddle. This was a thud to her nerves. It covered so much area at once. This wan’t a flame and burn, it was a razing. _Thwack!_ Her moment of fear was smothered by the lasting buzz in her backside. She was a little less frightened with each lick.

Severus gave her an even ten. The red crept out from beneath her white panties. The focal point of the picture was under wraps for the time being, but he’d unveil his painting in just a few minutes. “Just the cane now, pet. You’re being so brave. I’m proud of you.”

Hermione smiled into the bed, hiding how pleased she was to hear that. The cool wood tapped at her bum, and she cringed away. The thought of the cane turned her on, but she’d read so many horror stories about broken skin and bruises. She was frightened now that she was the one in the spotlight.

Severus used his other hand to stroke her inner thigh, calming her down. “Don’t be scared. I’ll take it easy on you this time.”

Her breathing was fast and short. This was terrifying. She was glad they didn’t really do this in school anymore. She would have dropped dead from panic if he’d ever caned her when she was a student.

He lined up his aim and gave her a light lick. “Can you take it harder?” He knew she could, but he wanted her to think it was her decision.

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled into the mattress.

_Tap. Tap. Swish-thwack!_

Severus rubbed his hand over the light line that formed. “Harder?”

“Um . . . Yes, sir.”

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Swish-crack!_

That was what he would deem a real hit. Her bum bounced and boogied, dancing the way a caned witch should dance.

“Ow!” It felt as if a synchronized hoard of hornets and just stung her in a perfectly straight line. She reached back to feel her arse. Everything was hot to the touch.

Severus brushed away her hand and rubbed for her. “Your backside looks lovely, Miss Granger. I only wish we had a camera to commemorate the moment. I’ll give you a break in a few minutes and let you go look at it in the mirror.”

The line of fire was dying to a smolder. It wasn’t so bad once it lost some heat. His hand wandered down her crack, teasing the divide of her cheeks before slipping between her legs. He brushed over her clit, and she bucked at the electricity racing through her. “Unh!”

“Can you take a few more, pet? I want you to have these lines for a few days so you remember who’s taking care of you now.”

Hermione grinned. She wanted that too. “You’re not going to do it any harder, are you?”

“No, pet. They’ll be just like that last one.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

Severus smiled and lined himself up for the next swing. “That’s my girl.”

Each new stroke left her reeling, but he gave her plenty of time to recover, never rushing her, always rubbing her. He rewarded her for each lick by giving her vulva a massage that left her keening for more. Her knickers were getting sticky. As promised, he stopped after three, and gave her a final rub.

“Do you want to go see your new marks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come along. I’ll help you.”

With his assistance, she backed off the bed and tested out her legs. They didn’t seem entirely steady. He escorted her over to the closet door and opened it so she could see the mirror on its reverse. Hermione’s first thought when she saw herself was that she looked as if she’d lost about twenty IQ points. Her eyes were fuzzy, and her hair had become disheveled.

Severus turned her around by the shoulders and showed her her red bum in the mirror. “See how nice that looks?”

Hermione’s lips twitched into a smile, and she reached back to run her hands over her red arse. “It’s pretty.”

He grinned. “Yes, it is. Let’s see how it looks underneath.” Snape gently peeled her knickers down over her bum and left them clinging to the tops of her thighs, baring her backside for their viewing pleasure. “Red’s your color.”

Hermione laughed and looked over her other shoulder to see if it appeared different from the other direction. Nope. Still perfect. “Will you rub it for me? I’ve got some oil.”

He shook his head. “We’re not finished yet. But when we’re done, yes, I would be glad to rub oil on your bum. In fact, I insist on it.”

“What else are you going to do to me?”

He reached one hand around her back while the other snaked down her belly. They both caught her knickers and pulled them back into place. “You didn’t think I let you wear these knickers for protection, did you? These panties are for punishment.”

When he started to pull the rear of her knickers into her crack, she gasped and put a hand on his chest to steady herself. Gripping the opposite sides firmly, he lifted the cotton tightly into her juicy gorge. Her breathing became more rapid, and she looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion and excitement.

“I thought the spanking was my punishment,” she whispered.

He nodded. “That was your punishment for the park. Now we need to work on solidifying your other lessons.” He lifted them higher, watching her jaw drop as the pressure on her clit became overwhelming. “I want you to tell me three positive things about yourself, Miss Granger. It’s time that you stopped all this negative self-talk.”

How was she supposed to think with her gusset cleaving her body in two? “Ah! I can’t think, sir.”

He wiggled them even higher, wedging her cotton core completely in her trench before releasing her. “Leave those where they are. Now, you can think. Tell me three positive things about yourself.”

She shifted around as her underwear abraded her folds. “I really don’t know, sir.”

“Can you think of three negative things about yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Then you should be able to think of three positive things. Go ahead, I’m waiting.”

She covered her belly with her hands. Why was it so much easier to think horrible things about oneself?

“Come along,” he said softly after a silent minute. “Something good about you . . . or that you’ve done. Anything.”

She sighed. “I guess it was smart that I thought to use Polyjuice to spy on Barnabas’s house.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Two more.”

Her fingers dug into her stomach, trying to make it settle down.

Severus brushed his hands over hers and pulled her claws from her flesh. “This isn’t difficult, Miss Granger.”

She stared at the ceiling, searching for an answer in the plaster. “I’m a hard worker.”

“Just one more,” he prodded.

“I . . . I guess I’m very organized.”

He sighed. He didn’t want to encourage her obsession. “Yes, you are. But how about you’re kind to all creatures?”

“Yes, I guess I am.”

He rolled his eyes. “You guess you are? Merlin’s balls,” he muttered. "From now on you have to think of three positive things about yourself every night before you get in bed. And they have to be different things each night."

"I don't know if I can think of that many things, sir."

"Don't give me that. You're an intelligent witch. I can think of ten positive things about you right now off the top of my head, so I'm certain you can squeeze out three each night."

She didn't know if she liked this new assignment. It made her stomach ache.

Severus patted her red rump with one hand. "I want you to write me and tell me what three things you pick each night."

"You want me to write them down?" That would be even worse.

"I don't think that’s unreasonable." She made it sound as if he were asking her to take a bath in Bubotuber puss. “Come sit over here with me.”

He took her over to the bed, and Hermione climbed into his lap. She could feel the stiff lump of his erection against her leg; knowing he was so turned on made her feel quite a bit better.

"This isn't an exercise invented to torture you. This is about you no longer beating yourself up and dwelling on the negative. Can you do that for me?"

Hermione slowly nodded. "It's just hard."

He understood where she was coming from. "I know. But you'll get better at it. Can you think of three good things about me each night?"

"Yes," she said automatically. That was much easier.

"All right then. I'll make a deal with you. For one week, you write me and tell me three good things about me, and I'll write you three good things about you. It'll ease you into it, and hopefully you'll be able to see yourself as others see you and not this horrible monster you've created in your head. After that though, you have to think of them on your own. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then I want you to stand up and get ready for the rest of your correction."

She was already worried about how she was going to think of three good things about herself every night when the week was up. 

Severus caught the self-depreciating flash in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her before she could stand, making sure she knew that he was still there for her even though she was learning a lesson. He held her to him, smiling when she put her arm around his neck and hugged him back. "You are sweet and thoughtful, and you have the loveliest red bum in all of Britain," he whispered in her ear. "See how easy that was?"

Hermione buried her face in his neck, smiling at both his affection and his words. "You're smart, caring and have the loveliest cock I've ever seen."

Severus chuckled and kissed her forehead. “That caring bit is only for you. Keep that to yourself. You’re going to ruin my reputation.” He patted her warm bum again. “All right. Stand up. I need to check that your knickers are ready for round two.”

She stood, and he pulled her in close and gave her knickers a few more firm tugs. This was the wedgie from hell. Her perineum was taking the brunt of the weight, her pussy and anus doing their best to withstand the onslaught. 

“How does that feel?” he asked, lifting her up on her toes.

She grabbed his shoulder to keep her balance. “It kind of hurts, sir.”

"Corrections aren't about being comfortable. They're about helping you see the error of your ways.”

Wiggling only made it hurt more, so she went still. “In that case, they’re working, sir.”

“Good. Get back in place on the bed. The paddles and cane should feel quite different without those knickers protecting you."

Hermione's eyes went wide, and she stared at him for several seconds, trying to figure out if he was really going to give her all three again.

Snape raised both eyebrows, giving her a warning look.

Scrambling back into place, she arched her back and spread her legs just as she had before. She didn't want him to think she was being obstinate. She really did want him to keep doing whatever it was he had planned. She just wasn't so sure she would enjoy her new "friends" without the protection of her knickers. He'd essentially turned her bikinis into a thong. The meat of her cheeks was bare and vulnerable.                                

Severus held back his laugh at how quickly she jumped to task. He knew right at that moment just how perfect she was for him. She was hungry to prove herself to him, and he wanted nothing more than to take care of her. Whatever she needed, he would provide.

“That’s a brave girl. Just for that, I’ll give you a choice. Pick whichever implement you fancy most, and I’ll let you spend the most time with it. I’ll only give you three licks apiece with the other two.”

That was easy. “The little one, sir.”

He nodded to himself, having already guessed her choice. “We’ll save that one for last.” Picking up the leather strap, he patted her red rump with it. “Stay nice and still for me.”

Hermione braced herself for impact. Each hit centered her attention on the fire building in her cheeks. Every thwack of the leather absorbed thoughts. She counted each lick in her head, hissing in relief when he finished.

“That was excellent, pet. Now just three with the cane.”

He switched implements and swished the cane through the air, getting used to its light weight after the paddle. He lined up the rod against her cheeks and gave a few practice swings. When he was sure he was in a good position, he snapped the wood into her upturned rump with a sharp crack.

A red line bloomed across her backside, and he bent down, placing a kiss on her right globe. He wanted her to love the cane.

Hermione groaned at the strange melding of the hot sting of the cane with the soft warmth of his lips.

Standing back up, Severus lined up the next stroke. _Swish-crack!_

Flexing her body to remain still, Hermione squeezed her eyes and grunted into the bed. His lips returned to her wounded derrière, and he placed a line of kisses over top the fiery stripe. If he had told her this was how he was going to cane her, she might have chosen differently.

"One more. Nice and still," he whispered, tapping her bum with the rattan. _Swish-crack!_ Her back jumped, but she stayed motionless otherwise. The line bloomed right over her sweet spot, and he leaned down and began to lick at the developing red weal.

Hermione hoped she was allowed to move. It was impossible to stay still with someone lapping at your caned bum. Her moaning was becoming obscene. "Thank you for correcting me, sir!"  

Severus couldn't stop smirking as he flicked his tongue over the hot line lighting her arse. “You're welcome. Are you ready for your favorite now?”

“Yes, sir.”

Snape got the little paddle and ran it up and down over her arse. "Those knickers are going to be soaked when I'm through with you."

Hermione gritted her teeth as the paddle snapped into her hide. Each hit left her bum burning and her pussy leaking. He wasn’t going too fast, which she appreciated; but she was starting to feel as though the next whack might be the one that ignited the bonfire. She was a briquette, and he was holding the match closer and closer. Her hands itched to reach back and rub, but she didn’t want to seem ungrateful or impertinent. “Please, sir!”

Severus stopped and kneaded her arse with one hand. “Yes, pet?”

“I’m so sore.”

He nodded. _I know._ “How about this?” he purred, patting her pussy. “Is this sore?”

Her hips rolled, the excitement surging through her. “No, sir. It’s okay.”

His patting became light slapping. He watched her body jump with each soft smack. “In a minute I’m going to take down your knickers and see how much you fancied meeting your new friends.”

Hermione shivered. Her entire vulva was pulsing with vibrations. The paddle was probably wet by now. She didn’t know if she could come from this, but she was damn close. “Mm!”

Severus stopped and tickled his fingers over her bunched knickers. “Not yet. First I want you over my lap so I can see how wet and warm you are.”

Hermione was ready to knock him to the ground and rub her dripping pussy all over him. Then he’d know just how wet she was. Instead, he helped her up and then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her so close her tits were right in his face.

Severus smirked up at her and let his hands rest on her hips. “Let’s have these down now.”

Her brain was swimming; she could only nod in agreement. _Yes. Take them down. I don’t mind if the carpet gets flood damage._

Inching her knickers over her hips, Snape ran his eyes over her body from head to toe. She was trembling with excitement. He eased down her panties just as he had before but this time continued to pull them down her thighs. They peeled out of her crevice like a banana skin but got caught in the deepest recesses of her core. Meeting her eyes, he slid one finger between her lips and the cotton and encouraged it to loosen. The material was soaked through, cooling now that it didn’t have her body for heat. The crotch finally came free, and he drew her panties to her knees and let them pool at her feet. One finger traced the line of her sex, tickling her with the suggestion. She almost collapsed against him as her eyes rolled back. “All right. Over my lap. Legs apart.”

 _Sweet Circe_. She somehow managed to lie across his thighs instead of coming all over him right then and there. It seemed like ages ago that he’d given her that first spanking of the night. He rubbed her bum for a while, prodding and lifting her cheeks to check them from every angle. She was about to start humping the side of his leg just to get some relief. When he spread her open, she splayed her legs even wider, praying that he’d slide his fingers inside her to test her arousal.

Severus didn’t need to go inside for a look, her juice was everywhere. The smell of it filled the room. Even her thighs were wet. “Where's that oil you told me about, Miss Granger?”

Her brain had gone on holiday. It took her several seconds to process his words and then translate them in her sex-addled mind. “There’s a little jar in the drawer,” she said, pointing to the bedside table.

Severus looked over and waved toward the table. The drawer popped open, and the jar sailed into his hand. He’d seen it earlier when he was putting away her toys. He’d assumed it was lube.

He dotted some of the buttery contents over her crimson cheeks and then set aside the jar. Slowly and methodically he covered her from her waist to her knees. Her arse was glistening like a suckling pig, the redness highlighted by the shine. It was beautiful. She had three little moles on her buttocks: two on the right and one on the left. He had kissed each of them during the caning. Now they shone like chocolate buttons that left his mouth watering. Getting another dollop of oil, he ran his finger down the crack of her arse, grazing her twitching whorl as he passed. She almost bucked off his leg. _I know, pet_. 

He tickled the puckered skin surrounding the site. “Do you want something filling this little bottom, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then what do you say?”

“I’ve been such a good girl. Please finger my bottom, sir!”

He smirked and ran his finger up and down her furrow. “Let’s get you nice and slippery.”

His finger eased into her bum, and she let out the loudest moan of her life. His fingertip tickled up inside her, and her pussy released another wave of wetness. _Oh Merlin!_

Snape had secreted the smallest plug from the set in his pocket; he eased his fingers free and retrieved it from its hiding place. “Do you want more?”

“Yes, sir!”

“I thought you might.” He greased the body of the plug, making sure it was thoroughly coated, then touched the tip to her tiny hole. “How’s that feel?”

“Good, sir.”

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He swirled it around, slowly guiding it into her arse.

“Oh God!”

“Does that hurt?” he asked, going still.

“No, sir. I need to come.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Straddle my leg like you usually do, but don’t you dare climax until I say it’s all right. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” She was already over his left knee, rubbing her pussy on his leg before he'd finished his sentence.

Severus gently pressed the plug deeper, watching her back for signs of panic. Her hole stretched around the widest part, and he let it rest there. Her rocking hips were doing all the work; she was practically shoving herself back on the little toy. “Does that feel nice?”

She froze. “I’m gonna come, sir.”

He smiled. “It’s okay. You’re allowed now.”

She ground her clit into his leg and shouted his name as the ballooning pressure inside her finally popped. The stretching in her sphincter became overly tight and then faded away as her muscles started to pulse.

Severus nudged in the plug the rest of the way as she screamed his name. Her entire core was contracting and twitching. He placed his thumb against her plug to help her hold it in and felt the throbbing of her orgasm pulsing it in and out like a heartbeat.

The release rushed through her, pounding at her temples and making her vision blur. Everything in her pussy was thumping like a snare drum. She rode through the rhythm until her body went limp.

Severus patted her bum. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mmmm,” she groaned.

“It looks as if you fancied your new plug. Do you have a thank you for me?”

“Thank you, sir. I love the way you correct me. You’re very generous.”

Snape smiled. “I want you to go stand in the corner for a bit and calm down. Can you stand?”

That was questionable. Her legs were sturdy as slug slime. He had to hold her waist until she got her sea legs; then he helped her stagger over to the corner by the door. Her panties lay forgotten on the carpet. She heaved a sigh of relief when they arrived at their destination.

Severus stroked her back, watching to make sure she really was calming down. He was nowhere near through with her for the night, but he didn’t want to overload her with stimuli. His hand went down to her ravaged bum, smoothing over her cheeks and caressing her crack. The female form was a landscape of hills and valleys, pathways to paradise; and she was particularly scenic. His hand slid up the shadowy corridor of her inner thighs, coaxing her legs apart. “I want you to think about those three things I said earlier. Do you remember them?”

She’d never forget. “Yes, sir.”

“When you’re done here, I’m going to have you repeat them back to me.” His fingertips grazed her muff. “Ten minutes. Then I’ll see how you’re doing.”

She sighed tensely as he released her. He didn’t know if it was because she was sad to lose his fingers or if she was dreading what she was going to have to say. Stepping away, he sat on the bed to watch her. “Reach back and hold those cheeks open. I want to see your new plug while you think.”

Hermione smiled into the corner and did as he asked. Her skin was hot in her hands, yet chills raced up her spine as she pulled her cheeks wide. She could feel his eyes all over her.

Snape stared at the black plug peeking from her hollow. She was stunning like that. He readjusted his hard-on as he contemplated what else he’d like to do to her. This had been a memorable evening, and he wanted to conclude it on the right note. She needed some sweet words to soothe her soul after everything they’d done. He could praise her until the break of dawn; she’d been so good for him all night.

He was a bit concerned that she had been so hard pressed to come up with three good things about herself. Self-loathing was a habit he knew well, but it was becoming clear how deeply these demons of hers had dug their claws into her psyche. She was harder on herself than he could ever be. He’d have to be careful. Any criticism might be taken as confirmation of her worst fears.

Hermione put her nose to the wall and did her best to think about what he'd said earlier. Thinking seemed so much more complicated when one's bum was stinging and hot. She tried to focus on his praise. He'd said she was sweet, thoughtful, and had the loveliest red bum in all of Britain. His voice echoed in her head, making her smile at the memory. No one had ever really called her sweet before. She didn't know if it was true or not. At work she was more of a warrior. At home she was mostly bookish and compulsive. But she liked that he thought she was sweet, and she wanted to be sweet for him. Maybe nobody else ever was. She wanted to be the bright spot in his life. He certainly was for her. Thoughtfulness was a bit easier to digest. She did try to think of others. And in some ways her job was about being thoughtful. She could go along with that assessment. The loveliest red bum in Britain? She smiled at the wall. _I doubt that._ Her bum as a whole was okay, and it did look better red; but she had absolutely no idea how many other red bums Britain contained nor did she know their loveliness quotient. Although it was unlikely her rump was anything outstanding, Hermione was secretly quite pleased with that compliment. If he fancied it, that was good enough for her.

When her time was up, he didn’t move. “You look lovely like that, pet. Why don’t you bend over for me so I can see everything.”

She grinned to herself and stepped back so she wouldn’t run into the wall. Keeping her hands planted on her arse, she spread herself wide so he’d see how much she needed him to shag her.

Snape’s gaze dropped from her plug to the glazed petals peeking from beneath her cheeks. She’d pulled herself so wide he could see the glistening pink interior. Those lips were begging for him. “How does that plug feel now?”

“I can’t really feel it anymore, sir.”

“Your muscles are relaxing. Come over here and let me see.”

Hermione wanted to hop in his lap and let his cock do the investigating. Going a more restrained route, she stood before him and let him turn her hip so her bum was facing him.

“Hands on your knees . . . that’s good. Now, push it out.”

Her face burned, but she felt the plug pop free as soon as she bore down. There was no rest for her rectum—his finger was already wiggling its way inside her. It went in pretty easily, and she was impressed by her body’s ability to adjust so quickly. It wasn’t just exciting like it usually was, it felt good. Damn good. Everything was relaxed and full. But it could be fuller. Maybe two fingers didn’t sound so scary now. Her pussy concurred. It was dripping as though he’d turned on a tap inside her. She closed her eyes and smiled. One of his other fingers had found her entrance and the soggy sound of his teasing filled the room.

“Do you like that, pet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ll work on this more tomorrow,”  he said, slowly pulling out his finger. “I don’t want you to be sore because we took things too fast.”

She breathed out a tense huff at his departure. “I think I’m going to be sore anyway, sir. My arse feels like fire.”

He snickered as he cleaned his hand, nodding at her pronouncement. “That’s a different kind of sore. Come on, sit in my lap and tell me three good things about yourself.”

Hermione slipped sideways, keeping her bum safely off his leg as she wrapped her arm around him. Her voice wasn’t very loud, but she answered him without hesitation. ”I’m sweet, thoughtful, and have the loveliest red bum in all of Britain. According to you."

He gave her a warning look. "Do you doubt my sincerity?"

"Not at all," she replied, worried that he'd think she wasn't taking him seriously. “I just think that last one's a bit more subjective than the others."

"Trust me. I know red bums, and yours is a dream."

She couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you, sir.”

He patted her arse and kissed her cheek. “Which would you prefer now, hugging or fucking?”

Hermione smiled. “Both!”

He snorted. "Both?" He supposed he could manage that. Picking her up off his lap, he laid her out on the bed then settled down next to her, stroking her face. "Very well, hug-fucking it is. I think you'd better get these trousers off me soon or 'bent out of shape' is going to take on all new connotations."

Brushing her hand down his chest, Hermione smiled at him and began unbuttoning his shirt, shifting closer so their bodies were touching. His chest was pale and narrow. He'd never be on the cover of any bodice-ripper, but every time she saw him in any state of undress, her brain started to sweat. She was captivated by the beauty of his body. Pushing off his shirt, she got an eyeful. His nipples were a muted brown that reminded her of toffee. She grazed each one as she stroked his chest. This was artwork that was meant to be handled. Her fingers trailed down to his trousers. The featured exhibit. She could stare at his dick for hours. 

Snape let out a tense breath as she freed his cock. 

"These are sexy," she said, running her hand over the front of his black boxer-briefs. 

He smirked. "I enjoyed them until I came over here. They're a bit snug for erections."

 _Only when the erections are this massive._ "I fancy it. You look as though you're going to burst through the seams."

Snape laughed. "You’d better let him out then. He doesn't like being restrained."

Hermione pulled the waistband over his stiff sex and smiled as his knob bounded out to greet her. He helped her wrestle off his remaining clothes, and she gave his rigid length several testing squeezes. 

His stomach jumped as she pumped his shaft. Her hand was so hot it felt as though she'd been warming it in front of a fire before fondling him. Grunting at her playful petting, he slipped his hand down to her pussy. "Do I need to get you wet again before we go further or are you ready to ride me?”

“If you want to . . . I mean, you don't have to, but I love the way you lick me"

Was she barking mad? Did she think he was lying all those other times? "Do you know what I think about when I'm in class?"

She shook her head.

"I think about your juicy pussy shining like the sun."

She blushed but smiled broadly.

"When I can't stand looking at my class one second longer, I picture you spread out on my desk touching your clit and begging me to make you come. I think about eating you at least five times a day."

"Really? I think about you too."

He rolled her onto her back and started to kiss his way down her body. "Do you? Tell me what you think about."

Hermione gasped as he suckled her right tit. _Damn he's good at this._ "Sometimes I think about things we've done. But other times I just think about you naked, or I picture you wanking."

He switched to her other nipple. "You've never seen me wank."

"I have to use my imagination," she gasped, squirming under the suction. "I like to think about you stroking your cock when I'm touching myself. Sometimes I picture you coming on me, but other times you push your cock in my mouth and come down my throat."

He chuckled and licked his way to her trimmed triangle. "That sounds excellent. Next time you're sucking my dick, I want you to touch yourself."

She grinned down at him. "Yes, sir."

Severus held her open with his thumbs, spreading out her labia like butterfly wings. He took a deep breath, inhaling her aroma. _Fuck!_ That scent got him every time. His dick twitched against the bed; it knew exactly what that smell meant. Burying his tongue inside her, he drank from her fount, anointing his face with her ambrosia. Her hips jerked with pleasure, and she whimpered out a sound that shot straight to his balls. When he lapped at the apex of her folds, she shouted his name and arched her back as if she were ascending to heaven pussy-first. His finger slipped inside her passage to test the degree of her engorgement. Her puffy walls pushed back at him, signaling that their qualifications were above par. “I think you’re ready.”

She grunted in agreement.

"Come up here and sit on me, pet."

Hermione watched in a haze of lust as he climbed up the bed and sat against the pillow. He held out his hand to her, and she got in his lap. 

"Wrap your legs around me," he murmured. He sat cross-legged as she snaked her arms and legs around him like a vine. "Lift up just a bit."

Hermione used her legs to give him room. He reached between them and got his cock in place. Lubing himself in her excitement, he pulled his knob through her folds several times, brushing her clit with each pass. When he put his head near her entrance, she growled and slid down before he could tease her any further.

Severus hissed as she sank onto him, holding his cock steady until she was halfway down. Letting go, he gripped both her hips and helped her impale herself. Every inch of her was entwined with him: her arms circling his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, her legs squeezing his hips. His eyes were trained on hers, mingling their gaze as tightly as their bodies. She whimpered steadily, and her uneven breath puffed over his face. When she was settled and his cock was as deep as it could go, he let out his breath and moved his hands from her hips to her back, pulling her closer so her chest was mashed to his.

"Test it out," he whispered. "Move your hips a bit. See what you like."

She was glad he wasn't expecting her to seriously ride him in that position. It seemed impossible to get much thrusting going. Rolling her hips in small circle, she groaned as his cock swirled through her channel, slowly churning up a squall of pleasure. She tried the other direction. Both were nice. Rocking back and forth—even better. It was all much more intense than she anticipated. Although, that might have had something to do with the way he was staring at her. 

Severus marveled at the heat pulsating off her. Her entire body felt just as hot as her bum had earlier. They were both sweating like Hufflepuffs at a Slytherin orgy. He didn't mind the varnish of perspiration; they slipped against each other like silk on satin. She felt surreal. Wanting to seal their union in every way possible, Snape pressed his mouth to hers, breathing in her moans as her tongue tangled with his. 

Hermione was amazed at how perfectly they fit together. She was barely moving, but her pussy acted as if it was getting a pounding. He held her tighter, locking her in his embrace. She felt safe, which made her heart and head calm. He was protecting her. Was that why she enjoyed him so much? It seemed to be the only time the world couldn't touch her. She didn't have to save anybody or double check to make sure everything was perfect. It just was. She was immune to life's pitfalls as long as he was around. Even if she did trip up, he seemed happy to set her on her feet and dust her off.

Severus was so caught up in her he lost track of reality. He was indulging in her salacious sweetness like a kid at Honeydukes. The closer he got to her, the better he felt (and the more he wanted to be around her). He hadn’t felt this incredible in years. He wanted to stay buried inside her for all time.

"Mm!" Hermione shouted into his mouth. She was so close. 

Severus pulled back, panting against her lips. "I know you're ready, pet. Don't hold back with me."

Hermione pressed her forehead to his, digging her heels into his lower back to give herself more traction. She pressed her pelvis to his, grinding her clit into him as his cock scoured her depths. The pleasure built to a sharp crescendo. "Ah!"

Severus smiled and closed his eyes as she started to constrict around him. He relaxed his control and let her choking channel drag him into bliss. Her body thrummed with pleasure, her heart pounding against his chest. He grunted her name as his balls drew taut and expelled their haul in waves of release. 

Hermione smiled as she came down. She wanted to stay joined just as they were all weekend.

Severus dropped his head and kissed her shoulder, gasping to catch his breath. "Was that enough hugging and fucking for you?"

Hermione combed her fingers through his hair. "Never."

He grinned, hiding his smile in her neck. "Well the hugging can continue the rest of the night, but you'll have to wait until tomorrow for more fucking."

"I'm free all day."

 


	8. Afternoon Delight

Hermione scanned the local newspaper as Snape finished his coffee, a half-smile tilting the edges of her mouth. It was nice having him at the breakfast table. Her bum was still red and sore from the day before, and she couldn’t stop wiggling in her chair, remembering the feel of his hands all over her body. He must have been equally fond of her red arse, because she’d woken up to find him kneading her glutes like dough. He sure knew how to start her day off right.

Scanning the paper’s black print, Hermione only gave the advertisements half a glance. She was about to turn the page when she recognized the name of a nearby theatre. “Severus?”

“Hm?” He looked up from his sausages.

“There’s a double feature at The Film Haus today. It’s just a few blocks over. Do you want to go?”

Severus blinked, turning the suggestion over in his mind. He hadn’t been to a Muggle movie since he was a teenager. The thought of sitting in the dark with her was immediately appealing. “What’s playing?”

“Two old black and white movies. It won’t be crowded.” Her half-smile curled to a grin. “We can sit in the back row and hold hands.”

He smirked. Even wizards knew you didn’t sit in the back row to hold hands. Whatever scene she had playing in that busy brain of hers was bound to be worth the trip. “I’ll go get our cloaks.”  
  
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On screen, Gene Tierney was befriending a ghostly Rex Harrison while, in the audience, Severus was slipping his arm around Hermione's shoulders. For reasons both sentimental and practical, he wanted to keep her as close as possible. He’d forgone his frock coat in an effort to blend in, but as luck would have it, that theatre was cold as Christmas; if he hadn't had her heated little body pressed to his, he might have fallen prey to hypothermia. On the plus side, she was curled into him like a kitten, her chilled fingers burrowing into his lap for warmth. If she got any closer to his cock, this outing was going to become the highlight of the coming week’s wank sessions.

When the first movie ended, there was a ten minute intermission; and the small audience milled around, stretching and running off to the loos. Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him. “Do you want some popcorn or something?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Or something.”

Hermione smiled and shook her head. “Don’t get us kicked out. I’m looking forward to the next film. Did you like the first one?”

“I did.” He hadn’t known what to expect, but it had been better than he’d anticipated. “Have you seen both of these before?”

“Oh, yes. Several times. I used to watch old movies on the telly with Dad.”

He nodded. Recalling this memory seemed to make her happy rather than sad. “When was the last time you came to the cinema like this?”

“It’s been a long time. I used to come here when I first moved into my flat.” She looked around. “It’s always quiet here. They don’t show the new stuff, just old classics and indie films that don’t have a home anywhere else.”

“Is this where you bring your dates to test their sexual response in extreme temperatures?”

She laughed. “It is bloody freezing in here, isn’t it?"

“I think my bollocks are lodged somewhere near my tailbone.”

Hermione couldn’t stop giggling after that. “I know, my nipples are about to crack like ice chips.”

He pulled her in closer and put his nose to hers. “I can thaw those out for you.”

“Your tongue might get stuck.”

He smirked and looked around. “I don’t think I can get away with melting them in my mouth. But when the lights go down, I might be able to . . . give you a hand.”

Hermione grinned at him and kissed his nose. “What about my hands?”

He saw that devilish flicker in her eyes. “Gloves perhaps?”

She shook her head, sliding her hand into his hair, pulling him closer. His lips touched hers, and she whispered, “It’s warmer in your trousers.”

Chuckling, he kissed her once. “Yes, I suppose it is. And you could do a search and rescue for my balls while you’re in there.”

Hermione nibbled on his lower lip. “If your hands get too cold, I’ll let you keep them in my muff.”

He snorted and leaned back, looking down at her grinning face. “I thought you didn’t want to get kicked out.”

She scanned the other patrons over his shoulder. “As long as we’re quiet, no one will know.”

“And I thought it was just Slytherins who were willing to disregard civility for sex.”

Hermione pulled him back in, kissing him again as the lights flickered off and on, indicating the next movie was about to start. “Daring and bravery doesn’t just win us House Cups.”

“I’ll have you know the House Cup is currently in my office. Cunning won out over bravery last year.”

She smiled and kissed him one last time. “Yeah? How long did it share your bed?”

He shook his head. “Just one night.”

Hermione grinned and tapped his chest with her finger. “Don’t lie.”

“Two nights. But I had to dig it out of my liver at three in the morning. After that it stayed in my office.”

“I promise not to ever gouge your liver in bed.”

He smiled. “You’re preferable to cold metal in every way.”

The lights dimmed, and the murmur of voices faded in the dark. Hermione curled back into him and put her hand on his thigh. “Thanks. You too.”

The speakers roared with crackly sound as the movie started, and Severus slid his hand from her shoulder to her breast, brushing over her stiff nipple through her shirt.

Hermione smiled and squeezed his thigh.

They watched the start of the movie, but both of them were really concentrating on the other’s reaction. Severus traced all around her nipple, only touching the pointed tip at random intervals. Her hand slowly climbed his thigh, her thumb drawing little circles on his leg as she neared her goal. Her pinky was so close. His dick was giving him constant updates on her proximity.

Hermione took her time. She waited until Raymond Massey and Peter Lorre were hiding the body in the window seat before she even let her fingers graze his erection. She smiled to herself. Her body might give away her state of arousal with oceans of cream, but his cock was the most blatant of thermometers; it was always ready to tell her when he’d reached the right temperature. Currently the mercury had climbed so high he was about to dismantle his zipper. She started to pump him through his clothes, giving herself rug burn on his wool trousers.

Severus pinched her nipple, lightly at first; but he wasn’t letting go until she opened his trousers.

Her tits must have contained the water main for her pussy, because as soon as he twiddled her nipple to the left, her panties were caught in a downpour. Not wanting to be outdone, she slowly slid down his zip, pretending to watch the movie as his dick attempted to make its escape. From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw him glancing around; then he reached down and undid his button, leaving his fly hanging open.

Snape sighed. He could breathe again. She wasted no time. Her hand was down the front of his shorts before his next inhale. Her fingers were freezing, but that just added to his excitement. She started to pump him with maddening finesse, never pulling him out of his boxers or even lifting her head from his shoulder.

 _Dammit!_ He couldn’t take much more of this. The risk of being caught was having unintended effects on his rate of progress. He released her nipple and palmed her entire breast, squeezing her as he leaned closer. “Unbutton your jeans and put your hand down your panties,” he whispered. “Use your juice to get me off.”

Hermione mashed her lips tight to hold in her delighted laugh. _Yes, sir._ Looking around to make sure they were still undetected, she unfastened her jeans and pulled down the zip. Discretely slipping her hand into her knickers, she rubbed her fingers through the lubrication lining her labia. When her hand was thoroughly buttered, she went back for his meat.

Before she could shove her hand back into his shorts, he grabbed her wrist and sniffed her fingers. _Merlin’s balls!_ They should put that pussy behind the candy counter; it was the only refreshment he would ever consider snacking on while sitting through a double feature. He let her go, and her hand slid into his trousers.

Running her thumb over his weeping glans, she smeared his pre-cum into his knob along with her contributions. His shaft was hot as an iron; she could definitely warm her hands in that heat.

Stroking him slowly, she felt him tensing against her arm. He was already on the brink. Grinning, she pumped him faster, eager to see him lose his cool in the middle of a public theatre.

Just as Carey Grant found himself bound to his chair, Snape’s cock began to throb. He grunted quietly and tipped his head back against the wall, breathing hard as his warm seed coated her hand.

Severus jerked his hips into her fist, prolonging his release. When his balls were finally empty, he relaxed and sank into his seat with a deep sigh. She gently squeezed him clean then pulled her sticky hand from his boxers. Not counting wet dreams, he hadn’t come in his own shorts since he was sixteen. Strangely though, it wasn’t at all like the embarrassing predicament of his youth. That Cheshire cat grin on her face made the mess worth it. Glancing down at her, he almost groaned out loud as she licked his spunk off her fingers like chocolate.

Hermione cleaned her hand and then went back for more. Screw buttered popcorn; this was much better.

Severus took his arm off her shoulder and slipped his hand into her crotch, rubbing the stiff seam of her jeans. “Get it all, pet. I want to see those come-covered fingers in your mouth when you’re riding my hand.”

Hermione nodded, her heart hammering as he slithered down the front of her knickers. His middle finger found her clit, and she gasped as he started to tease it in a slow circle.

Snape ignored the movie to watch her. She was his favorite show. Watching her suck her fingers as if they were his cock was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen. As the minutes passed, her lids sank lower and lower; then her body slumped down in the seat to give him a better reach. Her breathing was becoming heavier. He kept one eye open for any witnesses, but everyone was engrossed in the film. 

It took her much longer to come, but he knew the finale would be worth the wait. And it wasn’t particularly tiring or difficult to rub her clit. It might have gone faster if he had better access to her, but watching her slowly melt into a sopping pool of goo was a great way to spend the afternoon.

Hermione's pussy started to jump. She was going to come soon. Glancing up, she gave him a desperate look; he just smiled at her and somehow lightened the pressure even more. _Oh gods!_ It was coming faster. She searched one more time for spies then closed her eyes and tried to forget where they were. She’d actually masturbated in public before, but it was always in the loos and there was never anybody around.

Severus watched as she shoved her fingers deeper into her mouth and started to pant softly through her nose. She was ready. He changed absolutely nothing, maintaining speed and pressure. Her body suddenly went stiff. _There it is_. He watched in fascination as she started to twitch, barely moving. She stayed silent, but her body softly jerked as if she was being defibrillated. The heat rolled off her. Slowly, she relaxed, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Snape leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Good girl.”

She shivered with an aftershock, her stomach loosening and settling.

He gently pulled his fingers from her knickers and inhaled the aroma wafting from his hand. Sucking her honey from his middle finger, he smiled to himself and committed that very moment to his memory; he might be wanking to it for the rest of his life.

Hermione let her fingers fall from her lips and waited for her heart to slow down. Movie dates with Snape might be her new favorite thing.

He vanished his own release so he wouldn’t wind up stuck to his shorts then did up his trousers. She started to wipe her sticky hand on her jeans, but he reached over, whispering, “Let me,” and wandlessly cleaned her fingers for her. He slid his arm back around her shoulders and waited for her to fasten her jeans.

Hermione rested her hand in his lap, and he reached over and wrapped his fingers around hers. His thumb ran back and forth over her wrist, and she leaned her head against him just as the movie ended. The house lights came up, but they stayed where they were until everyone else had left. 

“Where do you want to eat?” she asked, lifting her head and meeting his eyes.

Severus grinned. She looked so much more relaxed after a nice orgasm. “You’re not too full?”

She snickered and shook her head. “I’m starved.”  
  
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They went to a little cafe she knew. The menu was small, but the food was good and inexpensive. They sat across from each other, and Hermione rubbed her foot against his as they ate their meals. He gave her an amused look over his tomato soup but said nothing. She didn’t need him to say anything. She could tell when he was happy.

Severus stared at her as she ate her grilled cheese sandwich. She had a string of cheddar stuck to her lip, and all he wanted to do was lick it off for her. Using his thumb instead, he reached over and wiped it away. “What do you want to do when we get home?”

She smiled. He’d called her flat home. “Ride your cock.”

He smirked as the old woman sitting behind Hermione glanced back at them with a mirthful expression on her wrinkled face. He lowered his voice. “Is it time for bed again already?”

She nodded and took another bite of her sandwich. “Bed, bath, sofa, floor. I like your dick anywhere we do it.”

The old woman’s shoulders started to shake. Severus wiped his hand over his smile. “I’ll make a deal with you: if you go unorganize your closet when we get home, I’ll give you a massage, and then we can take a bath together. If you can’t bring yourself to destroy a bit of that regimented arrangement, I understand. We can just spend the day reading and relaxing.”

 _Take a bath with him? Why didn’t he suggest this earlier? We could have given each other bubble beards instead of playing pocket pool at the cinema._ If he had simply asked her to mess up her closet, she probably would have done it just to please him, but now she had a marvelous incentive to spur her on. “I’ll do it. Let’s go home now.”

He nodded. “Finish your food. We’ve got all day.”  
  
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As soon as they were through the front door, Hermione dashed to her room and pulled open her closet. She started in the middle, yanking out the hangers and shifting them to the outside edges. It looked horrible and it made her heart pound, but maybe if she closed the door she could forget how wrong it felt. She did that three times then spun around to find him standing behind her. “Is that good enough?”

He could see the panic flashing through her brown eyes. Pulling her into his chest, he held her tightly. “That’s excellent. Do you think you can leave it like that?”

She sighed. “Maybe for a while.”

He kissed the top of her head. “As long as you do your best, that’s good enough for me. Why don’t you take off your clothes and get on the bed? Maybe I can rub some of the worry out of you.”

 _You usually do._ Hermione started to rip of her clothes then stopped herself, remembering how much he liked to watch. She went slowly for his sake, teasing him with half glimpses of her money shots. Unexpectedly, her little game excited her just as much. By the time her panties dropped to the floor, she was ready for him to have his way with her. She crawled onto the bed, arching her back and swaying her hips the way mother nature intended. Even though he remained silent, she knew he was looking. She slid down onto her stomach and wiggled her arse a little. “Okay. I’m ready for you.”

Snape shook his head and smiled. That had been one hell of show. She learned quickly. He kicked off his shoes and socks and loosened his collar. Her efforts to satisfy him with both the closet and the striptease had earned her his admiration. Her willingness to change and grow was a testament to her bravery. He wanted to encourage that. 

Climbing up on the bed behind her, he straddled her hips and set her jar of coconut oil next to his leg. “I’ll start on your back and then work down your legs. Tell me if it gets too painful.”

She heard him rubbing his hands together then she felt the warmth of his palms on her upper back, his thumbs pressing to either side of her spine. It kind of hurt and felt good at the same time—like spankings felt good and hurt at the same time. Her muscles were tight, but he pressed and cajoled each knot until he’d worked out most of the kinks. By the time he got to her hips, her back felt like sore jelly.

Snape stared at the lines crisscrossing her rump as he tried to ease the stiffest spots from her flanks. Most of the redness had faded already, but she’d have those marks for at least a few more days. 

Scooting down, he followed the backs of her legs, running his thumbs into the stringiest parts. Her body felt as if it were constructed of steel girders. He wondered how she walked down the street without limping. _I’ll have to bring her some muscle soaks next time. This is awful._ “Okay, flip over.”

Hermione winced as he started back up her body. Everything was tender and sore. Her quads were like stone. When he got to her pelvis, she thought she was going to burst into tears. “Stop,” she groaned, pushing away his hand. “You’re killing me.”

He lightened the pressure some. “We’re almost done. Just your torso and arms.”

“That’s half my body.”

“I’ll go easier on you. Try to breathe into it.”

She took a deep breath as he started on her lower abs. 

Severus studied her face as he pressed into her ribs. _Bloody hell._ Under all that soft skin was a seriously tense witch. Her face scrunched in pain when he found the knots in her pecs. He could tell she spent a lot of time hunched over a desk. He eased up even more. Some of the muscles in her arms were ropy, but she responded well to all rhythmic strokes. She had the same reaction to rhythmic spanking and rhythmic fucking. The constant repetition soothed her.

When he massaged her scalp, Hermione was dismayed to find it anything but relaxing. Her head seemed to be nothing but pressure points and sore spots. When he finally finished, she flopped away from him and stared at the wall. “No more. I’m knackered.”

Smirking, Snape settled down on his side and pulled her back into him, kissing her neck. "You're going to be sore as hell tomorrow unless I get you some kind of muscle restorer. Why don't you rest while I go get you something from my stores?"

"Okay. How long will you be gone?"

"Maybe twenty minutes. I'll bring a change of clothes for tomorrow. Do you want me to stay tomorrow night too?"

"If you want to, yes."

Severus pressed his lips to her shoulder. Honestly, he didn't want to ever leave. Being with her was like being on holiday. He wanted to pack her in a suitcase and take her back to Hogwarts with him so they could take advantage of every free moment that neither of them were working. "I can stay."  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus stalked through the dungeons with a single-minded goal: get in and get out. He glared at every student he passed, making it clear he wasn't to be bothered. Once in the safety of his rooms, he found a small valise and stocked it with clothes, muscle soak, Rejuvenation Elixer, and the book he was reading.

There was a soft knock at his door, and he cursed himself for not locking his office behind him. Yanking open the door, he was surprised to find Minerva on the other side. "What?"

McGonagall gave his huffy perturbation a disapproving look. "I heard you had returned to the castle."

"I'm just getting some things."

Minerva searched his eyes. "Will you be back tomorrow?"

"Monday morning."

"I see. I wanted to let you know I've found several people willing to switch duties with you."

"Good."

"You'll have to take the Monday night curfew rounds and double up Wednesday to take Fillius’s patrol and Irma’s check of the library and surrounding halls."

"Yes, fine," he agreed quickly. "As long as I have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday to myself, that's all I need."

She sighed and nodded. "I hope she's worth all this."

He edged her out the door, warding it behind him. "Goodnight, Minerva."  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione was curled up next to him in bed, pretending to read.

She was really thinking about everything they’d done that day, and picturing him in her bathtub, that giddy smirk on his face as he’d “cleaned” her bottom hole for the third time. They’d stayed in the tub playing until they were both pruning like raisins. He’d scrubbed her clit to a high shine, buffing her to orgasm. It was the best bath of her life.

When they got out, he changed into a pair of black cotton pajamas. He looked adorably sexy in them, and she couldn't stop snuggling into him and burying her face in his chest. He seemed amused by her repeated requests for hugs. 

They ate a simple dinner of meat and potatoes and then cleaned the dishes together. She couldn't stop staring at him. Was this really what he was like when no one was around? It was easy to care for this man. He didn't glare at her or ridicule her. He hugged her whenever she wanted and fucked her like a pro. What was there not to like?

With the dishes clean, they went and sat in the front room, where they'd wound up kissing and groping each other on the couch like a couple of teenagers.

Crookshanks showed up in the middle of their snogging session and meowed, informing her he would be waiting in the kitchen for her to make it rain catnip. She kissed a groggy (but grinning) Snape on the cheek and told him she'd be back.

Once Crooks was taken care of, she went back out and found Snape dozing on the couch. When she got closer, his eyes snapped open, and he told her to take off her pajamas and go lie on the bed. The next thirty minutes were spent with his face buried her pussy. Just when she thought she would come, he stopped and got out the plug they'd used the night before. This time though, he lapped at her clit as he slid it home, making it easy for her to loudly proclaim how much she fancied having her bottom filled. After she came, he let her get dressed and told her to rest for a bit before they had another go.

Hermione gave up on her book and turned on her right side to face him. "Severus?"

"Hm?" he mumbled, marking his place with his finger.

"Tell me about school."

He looked up from his book, his brow pinching in confusion. "What?"

"What do you do every day?"

"Mostly fear for my life."

She smiled. "I'm serious. Has Hogwarts changed since I left?"

"Yes. The death toll is considerably smaller," he quipped then realized she might take that the wrong way. "Without the constant threat of madmen, the student body need fear only themselves."

"Do you like teaching? It seems as though you can't stand it."

He put his bookmark in place and set his book aside. "I enjoy teaching; it's the students I can't stand."

"You can't have one without the other."

"I'd be fine with them if they actually took learning seriously, but they act as if putting any effort into their schoolwork will destroy them."

"They're just distracted by other things. One day they'll see how valuable it is. Tell me what you do each day. I have no idea what Hogwarts is like from the faculty's viewpoint."

She seemed honestly interested; he wished there was something worthwhile to tell her. "I have no idea what the other teachers do, but my day is relatively boring unless something's exploding. I get up and get dressed then go to the Great Hall for breakfast. When the students start wandering in, I return to my room to prepare for the day. I write instructions on the board, check ingredient stores, set out the scrolls that need handing back, that sort of thing. Classes start, and I'm sure you remember what taking Potions with me was like. When the day ends, I usually grade until dinner. After dinner, I grade some more. If I'm actually free to use my time as I please, I sometimes do experimental brewing or refill Poppy's stores. At night I take a bath and then read until I'm groggy enough to sleep. Roughly eight hours later the whole process starts again. Then there're teachers' meetings and Quidditch matches and trips to Hogsmeade to break the monotony. Perhaps you can see now why I look forward to your letters so much."

Hermione smiled. "If you hate it, why don't you quit?"

"I don't hate it. Hogwarts is my home. The Slytherins are like my children. I want them to do well. I care about their education. I find Potions an interesting subject. The only thing I dislike is the rampant stupidity."

"Do you ever think about doing anything else?"

"Not really. Teaching is all I know anymore."

"You could be a gigolo. You certainly have the equipment and skills."

He laughed loudly. "I'd rather not. I don't want pleasure to be work."

"Do you like having Minerva as Headmistress?"

He made a grumbling sound of indecision. "It could be worse."

Hermione bit back her giggle. She had a feeling Snape didn't like anybody being in charge of him. "What are you reading?"

He glanced over at the side table. "Nibald's Precision Potion-Making. Why the sudden downpour of questions?"

"I'm just curious what happens when you're not here."

"I assure you it's nothing of note. What about you? Besides your compulsive cleaning and prolific masturbation, what happens during the week? Do you cajole Crookshanks into having tea with you each night while you relay the events of the day, or do you stay at work so late that there's no time for conversation?”

She blushed. "Crooks is an excellent listener."

Snape smiled. "I don't know how to break this to you, but I think he might be deaf." _And going blind._

Hermione shook her head. "He's selective. Perhaps you just haven't said anything that interested him."

"When do you go out? I can't imagine you meet many wizards with your schedule."

She sighed. "I'm tired of dating. That's why I placed the ad."

"So you're not going to see anyone else while were involved?"

"I don't have time for any more men in my life.”

He nodded, thinking about how things would change if she found a steady boyfriend. "So you're ready to just be alone the rest of your days on earth?"

Her face went blank. "I don't like to think about it."

Snape could tell he'd touched a nerve. "I'm sure you'll find someone." He smiled softly. "Someone who enjoys swotty, obsessive bookworms with a spanking fetish."

Hermione's eyes wandered down to his chest. "Let's change the subject."

"I was just joking, Hermione." He put his hand to the side of her face. "You'll make some wizard very happy. How could any man not adore a sweet witch who excels at hand jobs and begs to have her bottom penetrated?”

She sat up and stared at the opposite wall. "Would you just drop it, Severus. You may not mind my work habits or my sexual proclivities, but plenty of men do. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

His hand trailed down her back in an attempt to calm her. "We most certainly are going to talk about it. Why are you getting so upset?"

Hermione dropped her face into her hands and let out a huffy sigh. "Because, oddly enough,” she snapped, “I don't like thinking about being alone for the rest of my life. Dwelling on things I can't change is maddening."

Severus slid his hand up the back of her pajama top, running his fingers along her spine. "Just because you haven't found someone yet doesn't mean there aren’t limitless options out there."

“Yeah right." She didn't even try to make it sound as if she believed that.

"Get the next size up plug."

Her head whipped around. "What?"

"You heard me. Get your coconut oil too and then come lie over my lap."

"The one I've got in feels big enough. Let's not be hasty."

He sat up against the pillows and gave her a stern look. "I want you to take off those pajamas and then get your bare bottom over my lap unless you want the plug _and_ the paddle."

She did want them both, but not at the same time. Hermione climbed out of bed slowly and got the next biggest plug from her drawer. Tossing the little jar and the plug next to him, she pulled her top over her head and then pushed her bottoms to the floor, stripping herself with an air of obligation.

When she started to crawl over to him, Severus stopped her. "I suggest you leave that petulant attitude outside the bed. Don't you dare act as if I'm forcing you to do this. You agreed to have me perform a sundry list of services, and disciplinarian is one of them."

She stared at his hands. "What did I do wrong?"

"Well first off, I think you are perfectly capable of having a calm conversation with me, even if the subject makes you uncomfortable; so we need to correct your childish reaction. But mostly we need to correct your false beliefs about your desirability. So whenever you're ready, tell me you're sorry and then ask me for the plug."

Hermione sat back on her heels and twisted her fingers together. She suddenly felt like an immature teenager back in his classroom (except detention had a much more personal flavor now).

"I'm sorry, sir,” she said quietly. "Please put me over your knee and correct me with the plug."

"That was much better. All right—" he waved her over—"get that red bottom up in the air."

Hermione climbed across his lap, and he adjusted her until her bum was propped high and her legs were spread wide.

"Push out your plug for me." Her buttocks shifted as she bore down. The plug popped free, and he caught it in one hand, casting a Scourigfy over it before tossing it aside. "I'll have to use a spell on you; you're not clean enough for my intentions."

Her face went fuchsia. _Oh my God._ He muttered a charm, and her rectum tingled as the spell took effect. His finger followed, easing inside and lubing her walls with oil. She was getting excited despite her reluctance to be in this position. It wasn't that she didn't want his finger (or the plug); it was that she wanted him to do those things because he couldn't keep his hands off her, not because she'd done something wrong. She wanted him to desire her, not see her as a child. "Sir?"

"Yes?" he muttered, lubing the plug's pointy end.

"I really am sorry. I didn't mean to get so tetchy."

He held her cheeks apart with one hand and twirled the plug against her hole with the other—back and forth, getting her ready for its invasion. "I know you didn't. I forgive you." 

Slowly easing it in to the widest point, Severus let her adjust to the stretch before continuing with her reprogramming. "Now, we need to discuss this false opinion you have about yourself. You seem to think you're just barely deserving of happiness, which couldn't be further from the truth. You are intelligent and beautiful, hard-working and hungry for sensual pleasures. Any man who doesn't see the full benefit of all that isn't worth your time. I think you need your three positive things for the day. Let's see . . . you're bright, sexy, and have the biggest heart of any witch I know."

Hermione sighed as the plug slid into place. It wasn't as bad as she'd expected. She felt stretched, but it wasn't painful.

"Say those back to me," he purred, patting her bum.

"I'm bright, sexy, and have a big heart."

"That’s right. Now come up here and I'll give you that hug you've been dying for."

Was she that obvious? Scooting around and straddling his lap, Hermione wrapped her arms around him as he did the same to her. Resting her head on his shoulder, she smiled, savoring his embrace. "Thank you, Severus."

He smiled into her hair. "For what? The plug?"

"Yes, but for everything else as well: the hugging, the fucking, the comfort. I know this isn't all your cup of tea, so I really appreciate it."

"Just because I'm not used to doing some of these things doesn't mean I don't enjoy them."

She lifted her head and grinned at him. "You secretly love the hugging, don't you? It's your favorite part."

He raised one eyebrow. It didn't seem prudent to reveal just how much he fancied that bit. "I don't like hugging, I like hugging you. Those are entirely different things."

Hermione hid her knowing smile in his neck. "You like taking care of me?"

"Yes."

"I like it too. Nobody else makes me feel like this."

"Like what?"

"Safe."

Severus thought about that. He felt safe with her as well. Kissing her shoulder, he worked his way up to her neck. "You are safe with me," he murmured into her thudding pulse. "As long as we continue this arrangement, I'll protect you to the best of my ability."

"I don't need protecting."

"No? What do you need?"

"Someone who understands me."

He nuzzled the side of her ear. "I do."

"I know. And I'll try to give you what you need too."

"And just what is it I need?"

Hermione combed her fingers through his lank hair. "The same thing."

"I don't know how you could possibly understand me when I don't understand myself."

She would keep it to herself that she thought he needed to be hugged thoroughly and often. He needed the affection just as much as (or maybe more than) she did. "I won't say I understand you completely, but I can see what you respond to."

"You have a very talented tongue. My response is quite simple to understand."

Smiling, she shook her head. He didn't need to admit what he needed most for her to give it to him. Drawing her lips across his cheek, she trailed a path to his mouth. When their lips met, she sank both of her hands into his hair and held him in place. 

Severus grunted as her tongue found his. His stomach lurched. She was so soft against him, her body pressed flush with his, her mouth breathing him in. When he was with her, he felt not only wanted but appreciated. He never got that from anyone else. His hands slid down to her curvy bum and tickled the tops of her cheeks, skating in to tease her crack, leaving her whimpering for more.

Hermione pulled her lips from his, panting at his controlled dismantling of her brain. "I want you so much."

He nodded. He'd been thinking the same thing. Giving her a final peck on the lips, he patted her pink cheeks. “Bend over for me, pet; show me those pretty stripes.”

Spinning off his lap, Hermione propped herself up on her hands and knees, looking over her shoulder to watch him pull off his clothes. Arching her back, she squeaked out a noise of excitement. 

Severus knelt behind her, tugging his cock a few times to make sure it was ready to go to work. Running his engorged glans up and down her flooded fissure, he teased them both to the edge of insanity. "You are so juicy. You love this new plug, don't you?"

"Yes, sir!" 

He grinned and aligned himself with her seeping sex, easing the tip inside. Putting his thumb over the base of her plug, he stirred it in a small circle as he sank into her. 

"Uuuuuuunh!"

Severus set up a nice slow pace, groaning as her plug bumped along his cock through her back wall. He wanted her to scream his name, and to get that kind of volume would take time; he was ready to give her all he had. He wouldn’t mind doing this all night. Every night. For the rest of his life. Her pussy was the center of his universe. The moment he was inside her, everything else fell away, and he could breathe. In. Out. The breath of life. Sex was his meditation.

Hermione was gradually rocked into another dimension. The longer he prolonged their release, the more vocal she became. It was mostly incoherent jabbering, but he must have decoded her cries, because he responded when called upon. She loved what he was doing, but there was only so much pleasure a witch could withstand before her brain melted. Her back was starting to ache from the unfulfilled promise of release. Didn't he need to come? If he would just give it to her a little faster, she might get there before the dawning of a new century. "Severus!"

Snape smiled to himself. "Yes, pet?"

"Please! I'm so close!"

Reaching out, he wrapped her hair around his hand and gently drew back her head. "Stay on your hands.” She arched her back for him, and his cock pummeled her front wall. Keeping his thumb on her plug, he wiggled it back and forth. The resulting shout was glorious. It echoed in his head as he turned up the heat.

Hermione saw stars. She wasn't breathing right, and the shift in angle left her gasping. No one had ever pulled her hair like that before, and she couldn't decide if she fancied it or not. It didn't really hurt, but it made her eyes water. The stimulation to her scalp wasn’t unpleasant, and it certainly made holding up her head easier. 

Severus whipped his hips a bit faster, making his balls slap against her creamed clit with a satisfying smack. She started to keen, chanting his name under her breath as if pleading for clemency. Her inner muscles twitched around him, warning him of her impending climax. He drove into her with enough speed to chase a drawn-out scream of ecstasy from her lips. Her sheath clamped around him, bearing down so hard he was almost pushed out. He held in her plug for her and gritted his teeth to keep from screaming right along with her. 

Hermione's wail of completion died on her lips as she ran out of air. Her pussy had expunged every last drop of pleasure from her body, leaving her limp and sated. She would have flopped face-first onto the bed, but he had her anchored by the hair and vagina.

Severus slowed to a crawl and eased out of her, releasing her locks from his grip and patting her bum. "Lie down.”

Dropping flat, she turned her head to the side, trying to catch her breath. "Like this?"

"That's fine," he muttered as he pressed himself to her back. She parted her legs to give him more room, and he aimed his cock into her slurping snatch. He rested against her, pushing her hair out of the way so he could bury his face in her neck. "Can you breathe?"

She smiled. "Yes." He was heavy, but she preferred having him right up against her. 

“Do you like having that plug filling your arse while I fill your pussy?" he rumbled in her ear.

A shiver rolled down her spine, making her skin prickle. "Yes, sir."

"I could tell by the screaming. Your neighbors are going to call the police on us."

She shook her head. "The flat's warded. No one can hear us."

"Damn," he muttered with a small nip to her neck. "I was hoping to be famous in the morning."

Hermione laughed. "Trying to drum up more business?"

He smirked, slowly rocking against her soft arse. He wished he could sleep like that all night. "No. And I told you, this isn't business, it's pleasure."

She smiled. "Are you ready to come?"

"No." _I want to stay right here._ "Are you uncomfortable?"

"No. I fancy it."

"Then just relax. I want to make sure you're worn out enough to sleep tonight."

He gently ground his hips into her padded bum, stroking his cock in and out of her at a languid pace. If he could stay inside her like this for years it wouldn't be enough for him. He circled his hips, smiling at her contented moan. This was the best weekend he could ever remember. He wouldn't squander his time with her tomorrow. Assuming nothing unplanned arose, they could spend a nice leisurely day snogging on her sofa. He would work her up to a whimpering frenzy and then take her to bed. 

Bed. What a mysterious word. It was completely mundane in most settings, but somehow in her presence it took on an erotic quality that made his balls tighten with longing. Bed was where they belonged, their natural habitat. He wouldn't mind taking her on her spotless kitchen counter either. They could buff it to a high shine that would leave her feeling satisfied with both her need to clean and her need to come. 

After twenty more minutes of slow thrusting, Severus felt his bollocks switch gears. He grunted into her sweaty neck and sank his teeth into her salty skin. She moaned loudly and writhed beneath him, fanning the flames to an inferno. "Are you close again, pet?"

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak. 

Snape reached around her and wedged his hand between her pelvis and the bed, teasing her bulging clit with his middle finger. Her breathing became shaky. She was ready to blow. "I want this bed nice and wet," he growled in her ear. "I want your juice running down my cock."

Her eyes rolled back in her head. The gravel in his voice abraded her clit, adding another layer of friction to his shagging. "Huh!"

Licking a line along the shell of her ear, he breathed over the wet trail, making sure she felt as well as heard his words. "Come for me, Hermione.”

He didn't need to request it; she was already there. "Unnnnnh!"

Her sheath undulated around him, and he came with a gasp. His balls rode high, pulling to a taut knot before releasing their baggage. He grunted her name, and his vision went dim for several seconds as his dick ejected every particle of his being into her sweet pussy. 

A smile slid over Hermione's lips as he dropped his face into her hair and rested his forehead against her cranium. This was home. “Stay inside me till you fall out."

He breathed out a tired chuckle. "You'll have to keep being my pillow."

"I don't mind," she said with a smile. "You'll be mine later."

Snape kissed the back of her neck, sighing as he finally started to catch his breath. _It's one of the perks of the job._  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus felt the warmth of morning sunlight on his face, but he couldn't yet bring himself to open his eyes. When dawn broke the next day, he'd have to leave, and his pretend life would come to an end. He didn't feel her hair tickling his chest, so she must have already gotten up. _Maybe if I lie here long enough, she'll come back._

Something brushed his cheek, and he opened his eyes to find her orange cat, bright as the sunrise itself, two inches from his face. Pulling back slightly, he gave the feline a wary stare. 

Crooks scrutinized their houseguest, peering into Snape's black eyes as if searching for an answer in the annals of his brain. Severus felt as if he were on the witness stand again.

"Where's your mistress?" he asked in a croaky whisper.

Crooks didn't answer, he just poked his face closer to Snape's honking nose and sniffed, whiskers twitching. 

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to stare?"

"Maow," Crookshanks replied with a yawn. 

Severus put his fingers to the cat's forehead, rubbing back between his ears; and Crookshanks sprawled himself over Snape's shoulder, making it clear he wanted more. Smirking, Snape scratched the cat's thick fur, closing his eyes and hoping sleep would find him again.

"Crookshanks, I told you not to bother him," Hermione whispered from the door. 

Both man and cat looked over at her with the same imperious expression: Crooks seeming to say "don't bother me now," while Snape had more of a "why are you not in bed with me?" attitude.

"I made breakfast," she told them both.

"Porridge?" he asked, not really caring what she'd made so long as he ate something soon.

"No, I made muffins and eggs. But I can make you porridge if you like."

He held out his hand to her, and she slid into bed next to him, smiling and petting his head the same way he was petting her cat. "Muffins sound good," he rasped. His voice always took a while to warm up. "Why don't you give me a little preview right now."

Hermione grinned at him. "A preview?"

"Sit on my face and I'll tell you if it needs butter or jam."

Hermione laughed. "You look pretty out of it. Maybe you should eat first—build up your strength."

"That's what I'm trying to do, witch. A balanced breakfast starts with honeyed muffin. Stop starving me."

Snorting, she nodded at Crookshanks. "I thought you didn't like being watched."

He gave the cat a pleading look. "This is my last day of freedom. Don't make me beg."

Crookshanks yawned again, but rose stiffly and wobbled to the edge of the bed in acquiescence. Snape set him gently on the floor so he wouldn't jump and crack a hip. The cat wandered around the bed and out the door without a backward glance.

"We're alone," he rumbled. "Take off those blasted pajamas. I'm famished."

Smiling, Hermione stripped off her clothes and snuggled in close to him.

Severus relaxed into the warmth of her softness. His hand slid down to her breast, and he gave her nipple a welcoming tug. "Straddle my face, pet. I've been dreaming about eating your wet little pussy all night."

She kissed his chin. Face sitting wasn't something she'd done a lot of, but she'd had one or two decent experiences. "Do you want me to suck your dick while you lick me?"

His mouth curled into a smile. "I don't think I'm quite up for that yet. But I might take you up on it later. Come on," he said, rolling over and getting in a better position. "Hold onto the headboard."

She couldn't stop grinning as she carefully got into place above him. Sinking down, she gasped as his mouth met her slit. His tongue wiggled up between her lips, making her moan. Gripping the headboard, she stared down at the top of his head, watching his eyebrows twitch as he burrowed into her sex. All morning she'd been on a low-level of anticipation, eager to wake him up and spend the day with him; but now her simmering arousal was being tongued to a boiling point. He teased her patiently, lapping through her folds and dancing over her clit. In less than ten minutes she was on the verge of overflowing.

Severus smiled into her musky fissure. She was drenched and ready to go off like a rocket. If he looked up, he could just see the underside of her tits jiggling above him. _This is one hell of a way to start the day._ He should get rid of his alarm clock and just have her smother him with her pussy every morning. Sliding his tongue into her creaming entrance, he nuzzled her clit with the top of his nose. It was mildly difficult to breathe, but hopefully he would inhale some of her juice so he could smell her all day. 

Hermione shouted his name as she came, her body bucking over his face. Every muscle tensed to stone then she spasmed and shuddered as she fell into release. “Severus!”

Her hips gradually lost steam as the orgasm rolled away. She slowed to a stop, lifting off of him so he could breathe. "You all right?"

He nodded and wiped at his chin. "Excellent."

Crawling down to face him, Hermione smiled at his wet cheeks. She swiped her thumb along his mouth and then leaned in and kissed him. The primal scent of her sex clung to his lips and tongue. She'd never been so turned on by her own fluids before.

Severus felt his cock waking up as she licked him clean. _Not yet. I need coffee first. And food._ "Leave your pussy nice and wet for me," he muttered. "I want to smell you all day."

Hermione nodded with a small smile. "Are you sure you don't want me to suck you?"

"Later. I need breakfast now."

She kissed the tip of his nose and climbed out of bed, only stopping to pull on her bathrobe before heading to the kitchen. "I'll get your coffee ready."

"You're an angel," he muttered. _My juicy angel._  
  
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They spent a good deal of the day reading and talking. He was having a nice time, and he appreciated the calibre of conversation; but he couldn't stop groping her. She seemed equally handsy, exploring his body through his clothes as they discussed the latest article in Potions Enthusiast. Just having someone who shared his interests and could provide intelligent discourse on the subject made him want to bend her over the couch and shag the hell out of her.

Unable to resist his suggestive imagination any longer, he pulled her from her seat. “Let’s go see what's for dinner."

"Dinner? We just ate lunch a couple of hours ago. Are you hungry again?"

"Ravenous," he muttered, dragging her into the kitchen.

"Severus, what are you doing?" She grinned to herself, weaving her fingers through his.

"We're going to try an experiment." He opened her cupboard and nodded at the boxes and canned goods. "Do you think you can rearrange some of this?"

"Um . . . I don't know."

He moved her in front of him and studied the shelves over her shoulder. "If you dismantle this monstrosity, I'll make it worth your while."

They hadn't shagged all day. She'd been hinting how much she wanted his dick, but she thought it rather greedy to demand sex from her guest at every possible moment. This sounded like her chance to strike. With only a slight hesitation, she started randomly moving things about, destroying her alphabetical order for the possibility he was offering. She didn't want her kitchen to be a testament to her neurotic nature, and he was giving her an out. 

Severus smiled. If she had just moved a few cans and boxes, he would have been happy; but she was leaving her cupboard in shambles.

"All right, all right," he murmured, putting his hand over hers to still her. "That's good enough. How do you feel?"

She bit her lip. _Be honest, Hermione._ "Sort of out of control. Like I'm running down the street naked."

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, turning her face up to his. "If you need to come in here and fix this later, I'll understand. But I hope you'll see that your world does not spin on the axis of a regimented pantry. Good things will happen and bad things will happen, but not because the beans aren't next to the corn."

Hermione smiled and rested her cheek on his chest. She hoped letting go would be that easy. 

Severus bent down and tipped back her head, pressing his lips to hers. Her tongue eagerly met his, and he grunted as she slid into his mouth. Her arms went around his neck, holding him captive for the most welcome imprisonment ever. Backing her into the counter, he slid his hands to the front of her jeans and unfastened the zip. 

Hermione was glad she had both him and the counter to hold her up. He leaned down and shoved her jeans below her hips then grasped her waist and lifted her to sit on the countertop. _Ah! Cold!_

Snape backed away from her, pulling her jeans and knickers down her legs. She had on a pair of pink fuzzy socks, which seemed to be doubling as slippers. Peeling them off, he left her naked from the waist down. Her eyes had gone dark with lust, her chest visibly rising and falling with each labored breath. "Lift up your arms, pet."

Hermione smiled and shot her hands into the air so he could pull off her shirt. He tossed it aside and wrapped his arms around her, his palms skimming her back and finding her bra catch. He had it off her in a flash, his eyes locking on her bare chest. She leaned back a little so he could see more clearly. "I've never had sex in the kitchen before."

One corner of his mouth curled up. "Accio whipped cream.”

She laughed as he caught the can in one hand and started to shake it. "Is that for you or me?"

"I'm having pie. I have no idea what you're having. Pull up those knees and spread your legs. Presentation is an important component of a satisfying meal."

Hermione leaned back against the wall next to the window. Her left foot found a nice pseudo-stirrup on the lip of the sink, her right was hitched at the edge of the counter. She realized that, once again, she was starkers while he still wore all his clothes. Couldn’t they play ice cream parlor with him naked?

Severus tilted his head to one side, getting a good look at her cute crease before covering her in condiments. There was a tiny glint of shine just visible in her seam. He would have her sparkling in no time. Putting the tip of the nozzle at the apex of her slit, he drew a white line down the length of her crack. _Exquisite_. He dragged over one of the chairs from the table and sat before his plate. Placing his hands on her inner thighs, he held her wider and tucked in.

Hermione inhaled sharply as he began to lick away the creamy coating. He started at the top, right over her clit, and worked his way down. She stared at him, mesmerized by the sight of his face mashed into her whipped pussy. His tongue wove through her folds, and the lower he went, the more she curled up to make his job easier. His line had stopped at her perineum, but his tongue had spread the cream deeper. When he lapped the remains from her crinkled notch, she almost fell off the counter.

Severus smiled to himself, planting his hands firmly on her thighs so she didn’t wiggle her way to a broken back. Now that he knew how much she fancied a tossed salad, he’d dole it out incrementally. He wanted her thinking about some backdoor options, but he needed to keep some tricks up his sleeve for a rainy day.

Hermione wondered just what else Snape could do to her that he hadn’t already done. She knew he was far more sexually experienced than she was, but she’d never thought about all the stuff they hadn’t explored yet. Maybe he wanted things to get kinkier. Or maybe he was just pushing her boundaries a little. She wanted to ruminate on the possibilities, but as soon as his tongue slid up her pussy and his nose found her clit, her brain lost all cognitive capabilities. Reaching down with one hand, she ran her fingers through his greasy hair and stroked his head. “Mmmmm!”

Severus sucked his way through her inner layers, cleaning every pocket and peak. When he could find no more cream to sate his appetite, he sat back to inspect his work. Her entire pussy was soaked, wet from his feasting as much as her arousal. He tongued off a last remaining speck from her left cheek then picked up the can again.

Drawing a fluffy line down her inner thigh, he nibbled and licked his way to her knee. Her entire leg was trembling, the excitement bouncing through her muscles like bacon dancing on a griddle. _Calm down. I’ve got you._ He licked his way down her calf, tasting her sans sugar. _So sweet._ Holding her foot in one hand, he dispensed a dollop on her big toe. _Let’s see what else you like._ He met her heated gaze and sucked her toe into his mouth.

“Unh!” Her leg jerked in his grip, but her eyes rolled back as his tongue swirled around the first little piggy. No one had ever sucked her toes before, and it was far more pleasurable than she’d assumed. She wasn’t really into feet, so she’d never thought to ask anyone to do it.

Severus kissed each toe, grinning at her hungry expression. “Should I do the other foot, or is it time to taste those candy nipples?”

Hermione put her other foot on his shoulder.

He chuckled and wrapped his hand around her ankle. “Do you like being my dessert, pet?”

She nodded. She’d be any meal he wanted.

Snape drew a line down her arch then proceeded to eat it off, laving the ticklish sole of her foot. He wasn’t worried about the cleanliness of her feet. He’d been the one scrubbing her in the tub the night before; he knew how clean she was. She tasted nice, even without the sugar. He wanted lick every inch of her. When he got to her toes, he started at the little one, nipping and sucking his way to the largest. Before beginning the main course, he wiped a dot of residual cream from the tip of the nozzle onto her toenail, painting it white.

Hermione moaned as her other toe got mauled in his mouth. His teeth playfully bit into her skin, and he sucked her so hard her pussy leaked with envy.

Once she was clean, he nuzzled his way back up her other leg, tasting her thigh and giving its juicy meat a quick bite. She jumped and reached for his head, tugging his hair to move him back toward her pussy. He wanted to go back there too, but not yet. Grazing her slit with his nose, he took a deep breath to tide him over. “Sit up tall, pet. Show me your tits.”

She arched her back into his face, dying to feel the suction of his mouth. He pressed her breasts together and buried his face in the valley. Hermione felt his tongue wiggling over her breastbone, leaving a wet trail cooling in its wake. His hair tickled her nipples and made her shiver. “Please suck me, sir.”

He smiled into her warm skin, smothering himself for a moment before leaning back and finding the whipped cream again. Pointing the nozzle at each pink tip, he capped her mounds in snow. She looked delightful. He had the sudden vision of her bathing in a tub of whipped goodness. He’d willingly give himself a toothache to clean such a tasty treat. Leaning closer, he inhaled the subtle scent of her arousal mixing with the light hint of sugar.

Her nipples grew hard beneath the fluffy topping, desperate for his mouth to move just an inch closer and devour her. He took his time, gently licking all around her areola, whittling away the cream until his prize was uncovered. She stared at him, watching the fluffy white cream catch on his taste buds before he swallowed. She wanted to slip her tongue in his mouth and lick it right back off him.

The peak of her breast had budded to a sharp outcropping. After flicking his tongue over it several times, he took her entire pink tip in his mouth and sucked her deep. He kept it rhythmic, just the way she liked, lulling her into a state of dripping relaxation. Her hand slipped around the back of his neck, and he sighed as she scratched his scalp.

He switched sides and excavated her other nipple with the same care, preserving the contours of the sharp tip like an archaeologist revealing a priceless artifact. When the rosy red bud was discovered, he latched on and suckled her. He loved the feel of her knotted flesh grazing the back of his tongue. She whimpered and held his head tighter, clutching his shoulder with her other hand.

When he released her, Hermione tipped his face up to hers and snogged him like a maniac. He tasted of whipped sweetness and that flavor that was uniquely him. Her tongue searched his mouth for any remaining cream. _Damn, none left._ She couldn’t stop kissing him. Cream or no cream, he made her stomach quiver like jelly. She wasn’t letting go.

Snape slowly rose to his feet as she latched onto his mouth like a vacuum. He could swear the suction went all the way down to his sac. Holding her tighter, he gave it right back to her, teasing her tongue into his mouth and then going on the offensive. She moaned against his lips, making his balls buzz against his thigh. He couldn’t take any more. His dick was trying to force open his zip with its weight. Reaching down with one hand, he unfastened his trousers and pulled his length free. Her hands were all over him, shoving his clothes around his hips as he ran his finger through her folds and aligned his cock with her entrance.

Hermione wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in, whimpering as his knob nudged into her cinched sheath. He sank in with one slow, smooth thrust, his shaft pulling her labia until she thought she might implode. He went to the hilt, grinding into her when he was as deep as possible, spreading her slick juice all over his sex and making sure his balls got in on the wetness. If he wanted to bathe in her lubrication, she’d help him out in any way she could.

Severus pulled his lips from hers, panting down at her as he rocked his length into her heat. He wanted to hear her shouting his name at the top of her lungs; no one else said it the way she did. 

Hermione tore open his shirt, baring his chest, running her hands over the soft shadows of his pecs. He was a thin man, but she wasn't all that into muscles. He looked damn good to her. When she brushed her thumbs over his nipples, he grunted at her and fucked her faster. 

Pushing down his clothes so they dropped to the floor, Severus pulled off his shirt; he wanted her hands on every available inch of him. Her arms snaked around his neck, and he dug his fingers into the soft skin at the crest of her buttocks, holding on tight as he turned up the heat.

Hermione's body was on fire. She wanted to consume him. His fucking had become a quick, short volley of thrusts, hitting her so deeply her belly clenched. "Unnnnh!"

He knew how she felt. His balls were starting to tingle. "That's my girl," he whispered to the side of her face. “Say my name.”

“Severus, please!”

He panted against her neck so her skin prickled with goose pimples. Her arms and legs tightened around him, squeezing him like a constrictor. The closer her orgasm drew, the stronger her grip became.

Severus could barely breathe, but he didn't care. There would be plenty of time for breathing later. His balls bounced against her arse with every thrust, knocking out a beat that countered the thump of his heart. Her soft breasts pressed to his chest, and he reveled in the receptive welcome of her body. Just when he started to get lost in the feel of her, her pussy danced around him, squeezing him tighter than he ever thought possible. 

Her body spasmed with release, and she shouted his name again. The sound echoed around the room and bounced off the sink with a tinny reverb. 

He rode through the storm until her body went slack then he let his hips slow to a stroll. He put his lips to her ear, whispering roughly as his body struggled to contain the rush of energy. ”Do you want me to come inside you, or did you want to test out that whipped cream for yourself?"

Hermione grinned. “Cream!"

Snickering at her enthusiasm, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead as he pulled out. “Okay, but you’d better hurry. My balls are screaming.” He helped her off the counter, and she sank immediately to her knees before him. Snape handed her the can. “Here you go. Don’t leave me all sticky.”

Hermione smiled and turned the can upside down over his cock, drawing a decorative line down the full length. _Pretty_. She looked up at him as she started to lick away the cream.

“No teasing, pet. I’m too close.”

She wrapped one hand around the base and took him in her mouth. He tasted like sweetened sex. Her other hand cupped his balls, palming them as her fingertips edged behind his sac to find the smooth tightness of his perineum. He growled loudly and rocked his hips toward her. The remaining cream lubed his shaft as she stroked him; she was getting it all over her face. Maybe he’d give her another bath to clean it off.

Her tongue madly rolled around his tip, adding a mind-numbing swirl to every thrust. His sac started to tighten, pulling up to give her a shot of the cream she was really after. "I'm there, pet. Don't stop."

His cock began to pulse in her mouth, and his seed shot down her throat. Hermione slurped and swallowed, gorging herself on his release. He had to drag her face off of him when he was empty; she was starving for more.

He smirked down at her as he milked his pipes clean. "See what good things happen when you loosen the reins on life?” 

Hermione grinned and licked the drop clinging to his tip. 

He smiled, stroking the side of her face. "Thank you, pet. Now let's go get you in the shower. If you're as sticky as I am, we'll be stuck together all night."

Hermione didn't think that sounded disagreeable at all.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus lay in her bed that night, staring at the dark ceiling, his arm around her shoulders as she slept on his chest. They'd had another go after dinner, her riding him on the couch until he couldn't think straight. This was, bar none, the greatest weekend of his life. That realization made him nervous. This was becoming more than a fling, more than a carefully crafted pairing of two like-minded individuals. He had no idea where to draw the line between what they had intended and what they were actually doing. This was no longer just a Dom/sub relationship. They were basically seeing each other with some discipline on the side. 

He didn’t know what to think about that. It might be a horrible mistake, or it might be the best thing that had ever happened to him. It certainly felt right—good even, as if his heart was so full it was going to burst out of his chest. He felt alive.

Turning his face into her hair, he inhaled the scent of her shampoo, and she twitched against him in her sleep. The warmth of her against him made his heart ache. In his experience, good things usually left him at some point—hell, good things usually fled from him so fast it made a Firebolt look like a tortoise. He didn’t know how to really be close to someone.

His quest to discover his own humanity had left him stranded in a sea of uncertainty. Being with her had become his life raft . . . but also the circling sharks. She could rescue him or destroy him.

And that scared the shit out of him.

The devil on his shoulder told him to get up and run and never look back. He'd only ever experienced pain and suffering when he let people invade his fortress. His less rational side pulled her closer. She was so bloody sweet, curled up against him, her head on his heart. She was no circling shark. But she might puncture his heart just as easily. Severus kissed the top of her curly head. Maybe this time would be different.

Maybe this time he was different.


	9. Every Time You Go Away, You Take a Piece of Me With You

Dear Severus,

Work was uneventful today (which was a bit of a relief). It was nice to just catch up on things without fearing for anyone's life. How was your day? Cauldrons still intact? I hope you felt as relaxed as I did. Everyone keeps asking me why I'm smiling. (Which makes me wonder how little I used to smile that they would find it so odd.) Everyone liked your idea about the plaque for Barnabas, so we're going out tomorrow to have it made.

Waking up with you this morning was so perfect. I wished we could have stayed there for a few hours more. Can you stay with me next weekend too? I sleep so much better with you in my bed. 

The pantry is still the way we left it. I actually forgot about it until I had to cook dinner. I don't like it being messed up, but I don't like being a prisoner to my obsessions either. I'll try to leave it until tomorrow night. In case I didn't say it when you were here, I really appreciate what you're doing for me. It helps to know someone cares enough to make me stop. 

It's almost time for me to go lie over my pillows and think about you. (Not that I haven't been thinking about you all day.) I promise I'll go to bed early tonight. Maybe if I climax enough times, I'll fall asleep in the middle of my "musings."  I'm almost finished with the books you sent me. I take it by the way you were moaning this weekend that you approve of what I've picked up from my studies. Did you like the way I woke you up this morning? Those were my classic moves. I have many newer techniques I'd like to test out if you're up to lending out your equipment. 

Crooks says he misses you too,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Dear Hermione,

Manual wake up calls are always appreciated. Although you did cause a rather lascivious twist to my dream. (Next time wait until I escape the Forbidden Forest before you start anything sexual. I'm going to have nightmares about overly-amorous Bowtruckles for weeks to come.) 

I'm glad your week is starting out less stressful. I'm afraid I've also been a bit out of character lately. Minerva keeps smirking at me and asking how my weekend was. I know Flitwick and Sprout were whispering about me at dinner. Either I'm acting differently or Minerva has been gossiping. She did have to hunt around to find people to cover my weekend shifts, so I'm sure the whole school suspects that I'm up to something. If I didn't feel so strongly about keeping my private life private, I'd tell them all just who was leaving me so mellow. I would so love to see Minerva's face if she ever found out about us. 

I couldn't write back last night because I traded for some later rounds. I know everyone else hates Monday duties, but I don't mind. I don't see why Monday is any different from Wednesday. To be honest, I barely even noticed where I was. Wandering the halls is fairly relaxing with visions of your glistening pussy to pass the time.

I'm impressed you've left the cupboard for so long. One step at a time. Have you forgotten our other arrangement? I haven't. You're dedicated, persistent, and have the hand job skills of a goddess. I'm only going to keep doing this until we see each other on Friday. After that you have to think of your own positive things. 

That cat of yours did not say he misses me. He might miss my head-scratching and gifts of turkey—but not enough to start speaking.

Be my good girl,  
  
Severus  
  
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Dear Severus,

Yes, I forgot. I'm sorry. (See I already need you to correct me again.) I'll do two tonight to make up for it. You're witty, patient, and fuck me like a god. And, you hug me better than anyone else, you look good naked, and your mouth makes me think of nothing but sex. This is just making me miss you more.

We got the plaque today. When magical people get close to it, the camouflage charm shifts to make it visible. It's bronze and says "Barnabas the House-Elf 1986-2006, Compassion never dies." I have no idea what people will think when they see it, but I hope it makes an impression on at least one person. A little caring can go a long way. Herbert and I are going to have it installed tomorrow. 

I got the books you sent. They look excellent. I’m going start reading them right now. Next time you come over I want you to bend me into some of these positions. You'll have to let me stretch first, but I think I can do most of them. Okay, I'm glancing through the pictures. The headstands are no-gos. I don't even understand how they're thrusting in some of these.

I do kind of wish I was with you at Hogwarts. I miss the castle. I could read while you grade and do your rounds, and when you got back, you could bend me over your desk and show me how page 178 feels. Or 236 if you're into shagging pretzels. 

I'm going to go read in the tub. My clit feels extra dirty. I'll give it a good scrub in your honor.

Always your good girl,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Dear Hermione,

You will not be getting any correction for forgetting our deal. That sounds a bit over-zealous in light of your quick amends. If it's the spanking you're after, I have told you before, all you need to do is ask. You don't need to earn a red bottom, you just need to say you want it. 

I'll rearrange your body into whatever configurations you fancy. But just so you know, sexual gymnastics does not equal better sex. Variety is the spice of life, but it's much harder to climax when you're in an unfamiliar position. That reminds me, have you been practicing masturbating in as many positions as you can? That book should provide you with a wealth of possibilities. And in answer to your query, not all of those positions are meant for penetration. You'll find more information when you read the text, but some are strictly external grinding options. I'll give you a sample this weekend.

I have to finish grading some tests. It would be going a lot faster if I could stop picturing you kneeling between my legs and sucking my dick. 

You are compassionate, your pussy tastes like heaven, and you are strong (not physically—I could hold you down with one hand—but mentally).

Get some sleep,  
  
Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

I have so much to tell you. First off (so I don't forget again), you are careful, brave, and have the most magical fingers in existence; I'm looking forward to riding them when you come over. I miss you (not just your fingers). Is it Friday yet?

Today Herbert and I went to install the plaque, and you'll never guess who shows up from the Ministry. Draco. He works in the public relations department (which isn't really a department—it's like four wizards who come in once a week to decide what gets put in the papers and what gets buried). So anyway, Malfoy shows up and brings along a photographer from the Prophet. He says they fully support what we're doing, and he wants to help our cause. Of course he poses for the pictures with us (as if he had anything to do with it), and when we're done, he comes over to me and says he's started a charity fund in Barnabas's name. 

Has Draco experienced some kind of head trauma? He acted as if house-elves were the unsung heroes of the wizarding world (which they probably are), but hearing a Malfoy say such things was totally unreal. Don't get me wrong, if he wants to fund more house-elf rescues, I'm not going to turn down his money.

So then at lunchtime, Harry and Ron show up to take me to eat; and Harry tells me that they found all of Barnabas's stuff hidden in a secret compartment in his owner's house, including the things I'd given him at the hospital. It's proof that Barnabas was in the house after he ran away. That bastard will be waiting for his trial in Azkaban. And Harry says there's no way he won't be found guilty.

Once I found out all that, Malfoy's sudden altruism made a bit more sense. When the story hits the papers, he'll look like a reformed Death Eater with a heart of gold. I don't mind Malfoy cleaning up his image with fake philanthropy, I just wish he would have told me what he was up to. I could have made him look much more lovable. The public would have eaten it up. Draco may not be a great person, but he’s not as bad as he used to be; and he doesn't deserve the stigma of ex-Death Eater. He didn't kill anyone. And, honestly, I doubt he would even think twice about blood-status if he hadn't been brought up by that fascist father of his. From what I’ve seen, Draco cares more about money and prestige than blood.

Oh, and I didn't mean to imply anything about you with all that. I don't really think of you as a Death Eater. You're far more complicated than that. And obviously not evil. I didn't mean to bring up anything unpleasant. I'll stop now before I stick my foot in my mouth any further.

One more day till Friday. I can't wait to see you.

Crooks says you're the cat's meow,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Dear Hermione,

I took no offense at your careless comments. My mistakes will be remembered long after I'm gone. I have no delusions about what I am or how others see me. I am an ex-Death Eater. There is no getting around that. And if you are going to spend time with me, you need to accept it. You may have forgiven my past, but the rest of the world has not. If you had not testified at my trial and provided so many memories for them to view, I'd be rotting in Azkaban right now. Without that order of Merlin, I wouldn't have a job. I deserve far worse than I've received. 

If killing is your guideline for whether a person is acceptable or not, we need to discuss some things. I am a murderer. There is no nice way to look at that. I won't make excuses for any of them; they are all on my head. I am guilty.

You are honest, forthright, and innocent.

—Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

It was thoughtless of me to write those things. Honestly, it's because I don't think of you like that. I'm not deluding myself. I was at your trial; I know what you did. I do forgive you. You had to do awful things for unfair reasons. It was beyond your control. So you were a messed up kid who made some mistakes; you don't deserve to be punished the rest of your life for that. Yes, the fact you joined the Death-Eaters says something about you; but that you double-crossed them and helped the Order says even more. I can only imagine everything you’ve had to endure. You sacrificed so much. I know you’re a murderer, but I also know every one of those victims was forced on you. You didn’t choose that path. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. You seem so calm now; I forget that you have your own demons to battle. I’m sorry about that too. You help me so much, but we only ever talk about my problems. I will never bring this up again unless you want to talk about it, but if you do, I’m here for you.

You've had a hard life, and I want to show you that it's not all bad. Not everyone judges you based on the past. You're like a whole new man with me, and I love being with you. I feel bloody awful that I even made you think about any of this. The past is over. I want you to know right now that you are more to me than an accumulation of unfortunate circumstances. I've seen the real you. You don't want to be bitter. You want to let go and live in the moment. This is your chance to experience life without the shadows of the past shading your perception.

Please don’t be angry with me. You are the only thing that stops my racing thoughts. I want to make you happy.

I miss you so much. 

—Hermione

P.S. Your smile, your laugh, and the way you hold me after sex. It makes the week worth it.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione stared at the pockmarked pavement passing beneath her feet. She was glad to be going home, but she was worried Snape might be upset with her. There had been no owls from him that day. She wasn’t even sure if he was coming over. He hadn’t said he was. But he hadn’t said he wasn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to spend the weekend with a heartless witch who casually mentioned the worst time of his life in a friendly letter. _You are such an idiot. How could you have written that? And you insulted Draco and his father. You know they’re still close. Draco must be the 26-year-old godson he wrote you about. Could you have been any more clueless? You should have just mentioned Snape's monstrous dead father too so you could completely alienate him._

Hermione turned down her walk, fishing for her wand in her messenger bag. She stopped in her tracks when his form materialized from the shadows. He almost blended in with the darkness. Only his pale, blank face stood out in the dim twilight, his eyes hard and squinting into the screaming wind.

Severus searched her face. The shock of finding him on her doorstep was evident, but he could also see the uncertainty in her eyes. She was terrified that she’d hurt his feelings, that she’d ruined things between them. Her feet were frozen to the ground, unsure what to do. There was a tiny flinch in her posture, as if bracing herself for his wrath. She thought he had come to tell her off. 

Severus held open his arms to her, offering her his embrace; and her face crumpled. She ran to him, hugging him so fiercely he couldn’t breathe.

“I’m so sorry, Severus!” Her voice was muffled in his chest.

Snape hugged her in return. “I know.”

She cried into his cloak, holding him tighter. “Are you angry with me?”

He stoked her hair. “No,” Snape whispered, kissing her head. “I’m not angry.” _Never at you_. No one else had ever been so concerned about his feelings. Those tears on her face were _for_ him not because of him. He’d never seen anyone cry on his behalf.

“I’d hate me if I were you,” Hermione sobbed.

He smiled softly and hugged her closer. “No. You wouldn’t.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“That’s not necessary. I forgive you.”

Hermione wiped her eyes on his cloak and looked up at him. “Really? You forgive me? Just like that?”

Severus kissed her forehead. Of all the people he knew, she was the easiest to forgive. He put one hand to the side of her cheek and wiped away her tears with his thumb. “I wasn’t upset by what you wrote. I just didn't want you to lie to yourself about who or what I am."

Hermione held his gaze. “I like who you are,” she whispered.

Snape gave her a small smile. “I like who you are too.”

Hermione’s expression softened. “Thanks. Could I have my spanking now? I can’t relax.”

He knew that look. “Do you feel guilty about this?”

“Yes, sir.”

His smile pulled higher. _Sir already?_ “If it’s what you need to feel better, I’ll turn your backside crimson. Will we be going inside, or are your neighbors about to get to know the real you? I’d be more than happy to bend you over right here and show all of London just how sorry you are.”

Hermione smiled at his teasing. He really wasn’t angry. “It’s embarrassing enough having Crooks in the flat with us.”

He chuckled, remembering her reaction to being de-knickered in the hotel ballroom. “If being in public embarrasses you so much, maybe we should make that a part of your future punishments.”

Her eyes went wide.

“I’d love to see you in a short skirt down at that market on the corner,” he murmured, stroking her hair back behind her ear. “No knickers . . . a plug stretching your glowing bottom. Do you think the produce man will be able to smell you while you’re eyeing the zucchini?”

_He might be able to smell me right now._

Snape nodded, seeing the panic in her eyes transform to lust. “Let’s go inside and get out of the cold. I'll warm my hands on your backside until your conscience is clean.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Her legs tightened around his hips, trapping his body against hers. Severus grunted into her hair, his eyes closed so he could concentrate on the feel of her. The soft weight of her breasts bounced against his chest. The heat of her well-spanked backside warmed his thighs and bollocks. The sharp tips of her nails bit into his back. He wanted her to tear him to sheds. Each scratch would keep him centered.

Hermione tangled her fingers in his greasy black hair. Turning her face to his, she kissed the side of his jaw, begging him to return the gesture. His mouth sealed over hers, and she groaned as his tongue slipped inside. The more heated their snogging became, the faster he fucked her. 

He had made good on his word to give her what she asked for. He'd lifted her skirt and pulled down her tights, leaving her knickers for last. He'd inspected her bum right there on the couch in the front room, running his hands all over her upturned rump and pussy. After he'd declared her fit for spanking, he slowly undressed her. When she was naked, he pulled her over his lap and slapped her bum until she'd cried.

His fingers had slid inside her, curling against her g-spot and making her come so hard her juice had streamed down her leg. Then he sat her in his lap, petting her until she calmed down, whispering in her ear what he was going to do to her that weekend. They snogged like desperate lovers for half and hour . . . until he finally carried her to the bedroom and stripped off the rest his clothes. 

He'd been fucking her for an hour now. She'd already come twice, and he seemed to be waiting for her to fall again.

Snape tried to keep quiet so he could hear the liquid squish of her sex with every thrust. Her honey was practically dripping down his balls. Sinking in to the hilt, he circled his hips, burrowing into her depths. She gave him a needy moan that had his balls aching. Her muscles tightened around him, and he sighed in relief as she started to come. He'd held on long enough. His bollocks needed a break. 

His tongue slid along hers, fucking her mouth at the same speed as his thrusts. He came with a loud grunt, loving the way her moan made his lips tingle. His shaft began to pulse, and he growled her name into her mouth. The prolonged denial had built up quite a cache of cream; it erupted from him with blinding force, bathing her clenching channel in his release. It was the clearest his head had felt all week.

Hermione let him disengage their mouths so he could breathe, but she kept her arms and legs snared around him. She didn't want him to pull out. He dropped his face into her hair with a sated sigh, and she smiled. "Thank you, Severus. That was bloody fabulous."

He nodded, unable to speak yet.

"Stay right here, okay?”

He nodded again. His dick was slowly dying inside her, but he didn't want to leave her twitching pussy.

Hermione stroked his head, waiting for him to catch his breath. She kissed the side of his face and jaw to help him calm down. When his breathing had quieted, she rubbed his neck and slid her foot along his arse. "Severus?"

"Mmm?"

She took a deep breath. "I'd like to ask you to do something for me, but I don't know if it's outside the boundaries of what we agreed on. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or make you feel as if you have to say yes just because I'm asking."

He picked up his head and looked in her eyes. "What is it?"

"During the Christmas hols, I always go to Australia to check on my parents for a couple days. If you want to go with me, I'd like to have you."

Snape didn’t need to think about that too hard; he would much rather spend the holiday with her. The dungeons were so damp and lonely. “When are we going?"

Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek. "The 22nd and 23rd were what I had in mind. Does that sound okay?"

He shrugged. “It sounds all right to me. So we'll come back the morning of Christmas Eve?"

"Yes. Harry and Ginny have a party Christmas Eve, and I usually make an appearance. Did you want to go with me?"

"That sounds torturous. I'll pass."

"I want to see you on Christmas or Boxing Day. I have something for you."

"You do?" He hadn't gotten her anything yet. "The food at Hogwarts is usually all I have to look forward to."

"Well now you can look forward to a festive fucking as well," she said with a grin. "Is there such a thing as Christmas spankings?"

He laughed and touched his lips to hers. "There will be this year." _Candy canings if you're extra good._  
  
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Severus woke before her the next morning. His dick was hard, and he reached under the blanket with one hand to test it, careful not to disturb her as she slept on his chest. He stroked himself slowly as he thought about the previous day. He wasn't angry about what she'd said about killing and Death Eaters, he just hoped she'd think twice before mentioning it again. He believed what she'd written about not seeing him that way. That was what scared him. He didn't want to forget. Forgetting was how you made the same mistakes more than once. Owning up to his past was the only way he could avoid it. 

She was giving him a way to move on. Moving on wasn't the same as forgetting. He’d seen the worst life had to offer and had learned a valuable lesson. Life was fragile. And fluid. Things could be terrible, but they could also be awe-inspiring. Most people only got one chance in this world, but he'd been given a second shot. He didn't want to spend his remaining days alone and miserable in his room at Hogwarts. 

When he’d answered that ad, he’d been hoping for an experience. He’d gotten that and then some. Finding someone who fit him so well was a shock to his soul. It would be devastating when she finally moved on. But maybe that was something he needed to experience as well. He should be able to handle rejection like an adult. Although, it didn't seem as if she was going to leave him anytime soon, so he had some time to enjoy her company.

He never thought he would be saying that about Hermione Granger. How could the one girl who'd made his him cringe with every raise of her hand become the one woman in whom he found solace?

Snape looked down at her curly hair and kissed the top of her head. He wished he knew what she'd gotten him for Christmas so he could get her something of equal worth. If he got her a book, she'd probably give him diamond cufflinks or something. He could think of many things she would like. He could get her an engraved paddle. Or a book on discipline. She'd like that. Maybe lingerie. (Okay, that might be more for him.) He smirked to himself as he considered getting her a school uniform. She'd wet her knickers in excitement.

He needed to get her something extraordinary. Snape had a feeling going to check on her parents would be a traumatic undertaking. It had to be bloody awful for her to see them every year while they went on being completely unaware of her existence. What a mind-fuck. If he could get her something great, perhaps it would brighten her Christmas. 

He hoped he could find something that conveyed how much she meant to him. That would be more complicated. The sex was bloody glorious—it was his salvation—but she wasn't just a heaven-sent pussy with the libido of cat in heat. She was so much more. Her enthusiasm for his cock was delightful, but it was the "so much more" that made her worth his efforts. 

"I could do that for you," she said in a groggy voice. Her hand slid under the blanket and wrapped around his. "Bloody hell, Severus. You could carve marble with this thing."

He smirked. "Nature's cruel prank."

Hermione wiped the sleep from her eyes with a grin. "Have you lost your mind? This isn't a prank—it's the greatest wake-up call in history."

Severus smiled at her. "It loses its novelty after a couple decades."

"Then I'd better enjoy it now." 

She burrowed under the blanket, and Severus grunted as she ran her nose along his length and kissed each of his balls good morning. Throwing off the sheets, he watched as she licked her way up and down his shaft, her tongue flicking over his salty tip every time she reached the top. "Turn around. Sit on my face. I want some breakfast pussy while you're sucking that sausage."

Hermione snorted but quickly did as he suggested, spinning around and throwing one leg over him. He grabbed her hips and yanked her back over his face, and she squealed as his nose nuzzled her slit. No one had ever eaten her first thing in the morning; last time she'd had a quick wash prior to his muff diving. Her pussy was probably still gooey from the night before. She figured he already knew that since he was the one who’d left it that way.

Severus smirked as her folds opened to his prodding. He started on the outside, nipping and sucking her pouty petals. She'd gone to sleep excited and leaking all over his leg. He could smell her musky nectar already. When she started to moan and grind into his face, he gently parted her and slid his tongue over her creaming entrance, lapping lightly at her inner labia. She tasted of sweet pussy with a hint of semen. If fucking had a flavor, she was it.

Hermione moaned around the meaty head of his cock, swirling her tongue around the tip as she slid his foreskin up and down over the ridged corona. She kept it light, not intending to push him over until she was close. She wanted to pace their pleasure so he ejaculated just as she was coming on his face. Wiggling her tongue into the salty slit peaking his knob, she smiled as he growled into her pussy. 

Snape shifted her back a little and started on her clit. He let the intensity build over the next few minutes, lapping and flickering over her swelling nub. Her hand found his balls, and he grunted as she drew them up and attempted to suck on one. She couldn't reach. His balls remained dry—unlike her crevice, which was becoming juicier by the second. Every time she bucked, the tip of his nose dipped into her honeypot, glazing him in her excitement. 

Hermione gave up trying to reach his sac and went back to his cock, still teasing him with her tongue but adding a nice steady fingertip wanking to the playlist. His dick wept with gratitude. In her other hand, his bollocks twitched once in warning. _Don't you come yet._

Severus wrapped his arms over the top of her thighs and grabbed her arse. Pulling her cheeks wide, he suckled her clit and rubbed his nose into her entrance, shaking his head back and forth to stimulate the sensitive ring of tissue. Her entire vulva was swelling, her lips pulling themselves apart for an open-mouthed kiss.

"I'm going to come," she whimpered. "Don't stop."

He grunted once in answer and sealed his lips around her nub, brushing his tongue over its engorged tip.

"MMMmmm! Come in my face, Severus. I want to watch."

Relaxing into the steady beat of her hand, he thrust his hips toward her so she'd pick up the pace. She matched each thrust, her fingers stroking him fast and easy right at the head. He moaned into her sex, and his balls pulled tight as they heaved the weight of his seed from his cock. She bucked against his face, coming as she watched his dick explode. 

"Yes," she whispered. The first shot of his cream hit her chin, and she smiled as the rest of it spattered his lower belly. Her inner muscles spasmed and jumped at the sight. Watching his climax up close was spectacular, and she knew she'd be thinking about it all next week. Hermione groaned his name as her own orgasm washed over her.

Severus waited until her hips stopped involuntarily ticking in his face then dropped back his head and caught his breath. 

Hermione pulled her leg over him and turned around, resting on his shoulder as he calmed down. Smiling up at him, she ran her thumb over the tip of his hooked nose. "Your nose is wet."

"That means I'm healthy."

She grinned and leaned closer, kissing the side of his mouth. "Was my pussy all gross this morning?"

He gave her an odd look. "Of course not."

She shrugged. "I didn't get the chance to wash it."

Snape bit back his laugh and rubbed his temples with one hand. "You don't need to wash it. It's pussy. It's supposed to smell and taste like sex, not soap."

"It wasn't overwhelming? I was pretty sticky when I went to sleep last night."

"It was delicious," he assured her, running his fingers down the side of her face. "I wanted to suffocate myself in you."

Hermione laughed and rested her face back on his shoulder. "Your dick tasted good too."

"Did you get an eye full?" he asked, wiping the remnants from her chin.

"Yeah. It was great," she sighed happily. "Do you want me to lick you clean?"

"That sounds nice.”

Hermione gathered her hair onto her other shoulder and draped herself over his hip. She looked up and met his black eyes as her tongue ran through his pearly come. 

Severus's cock jumped at the image: her wet pink muscle lapping up his cream, his release sparkling on her taste buds before she swallowed. Her lips glinted with salvia and seed. After she finished with his pelvis, she lightly polished his sensitive knob. He growled softly, and reached down, squeezing the remains from his length so he could watch her get it all. She smiled at him and dragged her tongue across his glans like a lethargic cat. A shiver shot up his spine, and he sank his hand into her hair. "Come up here."

Hermione climbed up to him, and he pulled her down, touching his lips to hers. His face was damp from eating her out, and she could taste herself all over his mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips, and she melted into him, letting him mix their release and share it between them. 

Severus grinned at her. "You were right, that was one hell of a wake up call."

“I agree. Can we go eat for real now? I'm starving."

Snape nodded. "Me too. Pussy breakfast leaves my stomach growling."

Kissing his neck one last time, Hermione rolled out of bed. "I'll get your coffee started."

"Bless you."

Hermione looked around for her pajamas.

"Don't get dressed," he muttered. "I want to watch you while I eat."

Smiling, she picked up her robe. "It's bloody freezing in the kitchen. If you want to see me, you'd better keep me warm."

He nodded, unable to keep from smiling. "All weekend long," he promised.  
  
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Hermione had the headboard in a death grip. He was kneeling behind her, his hands pulling her back onto his dick over and over. This was their sixth position of the day. He hadn't come again since that morning, but she was already on her third earth-shattering orgasm. She was starting to wonder if he'd taken something to last so long. Her teeth gritted as he picked up speed. He was pumping into her front wall as if drilling for oil. The bed was going to be drenched by the time they went to sleep that night. "Mmmm!"

"Relax into it, pet."

Her exhale stuttered out. That swirling balloon of tension inside her was about to pop.

Snape smiled as her thighs started to shake. They'd have to take a break soon or she was going to cramp up. He closed his eyes and listened to the liquid song of her approaching climax. "I know you're there, pet," he rasped. "Come for me. Soak the sheets."

"UUUuuunnnh!" The release exploded from her, leaving her keening and shaking. 

"That's it," he purred. His balls had pulled dangerously high with that one. He'd have to come next time.

Hermione's head was spinning. "I think I need to lie down," she panted.

"You read my mind," he replied with a sly grin.  
  
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Hermione was collapsed on the bed in a daze, completely knackered. Snape was in the kitchen making them something to eat. That was good. She didn't think she could walk. Hopefully he would feed her too. Using her arms seemed out of the question; it’d be like trying to eat in an earthquake.

Severus came back with their food and smirked at her nudity sprawled across the bed. "Here's your sandwich." He set the plate on the bed. "I'll get your juice."

Hermione smiled at him, watching his naked arse as he left. She looked at the sandwich and crisps he'd brought her. _This is so sweet. Shagging me eight ways to Sunday and then serving me food. What a gentleman_. He brought her a glass of juice then went to the other side of the bed and sat back against the headboard with a stiff groan. That headboard could sure take a beating; she'd almost ripped it from its moorings an hour ago. He gave her a mildly amused look as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked, nodding at her plate.

"I can't move."

He smirked and set down his food. Leaning over, he grazed his fingers over her forearm and then shifted about until he had his arm wrapped around her ribcage.

Hermione squeaked as he dragged her up the bed and sat her next to him, propping her up against the pillows. "What are you doing?"

He set her plate next to her then resumed his own prior seating arrangement. "Helping you."

"I'm too tired to eat."

"No, you're not. Here." He tore off a bit of her sandwich and brought it to her lips. "You'll need your strength. We haven't even gotten to the woman-on-top positions in that book."

She looked at him as if he gone mad. "You can't be serious. I'll need a day just to recover from what we've done so far."

He shook his head. "I brought some Rejuvenating Elixir. I thought I might need it at some point, but I can share."

While her mouth was conveniently hanging open, he tipped the bite of sandwich inside.

"Isn't your dick getting raw?"

He laughed. "No. Is your pussy?"

She reached between her legs to test it. "My pussy's okay, but the rest of my body is worn out."

He fed her another bite. "I'll rub you down first."

"What part of me are you going to rub first?" she asked with a wicked smirk.

Snape snorted into his sandwich. "I'll start at your extremities and work my way in."

"In?" she asked, smiling hopefully.

He grinned back. "Every inch that I can reach."  
  
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"Oh God," Hermione groaned as he pressed into the center of her left buttock. Her arms and legs felt like jelly. Her back was a wet noodle. He'd greased her in coconut oil as if he were getting ready to roast her. His hands plied her bum, sliding over the hills of her arse like an Olympic skier. He worked the tension out of her muscles then gave her left cheek a light smack.

Severus couldn't take his eyes off the shining mounds of her backside. Sinking his fingers into her juicy flesh, he made her arse jiggle as he loosened up her hips. _Yeeeeees_. If he were a less restrained man, he would have been pressing his cock between those cheeks and bouncing off of her like a trampoline. 

Hermione moaned as he carefully grazed his finger along her crack. He brushed over her anus again and again, making her stomach flip. She arched her back for him. "Mm!"

Smiling, he held her open with one hand to gaze on her puckered star. One finger tickled her backdoor, straying to her perineum for some bonus work. She was moaning and writhing on the bed, her back muscles flexing and twitching in anticipation.

"Please, sir!"

He smirked. That sir had returned awfully quickly. "Yes, pet?"

"Haven't I been a good girl?"

He chuckled silently above her. "You've been a very good girl. Is there something you’d like to ask me to do?"

Hermione only hesitated a split second. It was still embarrassing to say out loud, but she was too far gone to let that slow her down. At least he couldn't see how red her face was getting. "Please, sir. I've been a very good girl. Please finger my bottom."

His cock, which was resting heavily against the back of her leg, twitched in approval. "This little bottom?" he purred, wiggling his fingertip right at the threshold of her backdoor. 

She growled into the bed as her pussy suddenly sprang a new leak. "Yes, sir. Please!"

She was bearing down so hard he sank in to the first knuckle without trying. Snape jiggled his hand slightly, helping her muscles let go. She relaxed until his entire finger had been swallowed by that black hole. Staying still, he let her adjust to the stretch. Her sphincter was gripping and jumping around the intruder, which drew his thoughts toward fancies of buggery. She was nowhere near ready for that, but a man could dream. When he wiggled his finger inside her, she moaned and arched her back for more. "Do you like that, pet?"

Did she like it? Did Hagrid like illegal pets? Did McGonagall like tartan cloaks? Of course she liked it. "Yes, sir!"

"Would you like to try another finger?"

"You won't hurt me, will you?” she whispered.

"I'll be extra careful," he promised.

"Okay."

Snape gently pulled out then pressed his greased index and middle finger to her hole. He sank in about halfway before her muscles resisted. "Only a little bit more," he crooned. "Rest until you relax then bear down when you're ready for more."

Hermione took some deep breaths, telling her body to let go. He hadn't hurt her at all, and she was starting to prefer his fingers to her own back there. She could focus on breathing and staying loose while he did all the work. 

When her muscles bore down, he pressed lightly, sinking a little further into her heat. Her body quivered a few times then she relaxed again, and his fingers plunged in to the hilt.

"Good girl," he smiled, stroking her back with his other hand. "I'm not going to move. I'll stay right here until your muscles let go."

Hermione sighed and dropped her face to the bed. It was a weird combination of discomfort and pleasure. But the longer he stayed there, the more the discomfort faded. After a few minutes, she just felt full. Stretched and full. His fingertips wiggled inside her, and she moaned happily. 

"Let's put in one of your plugs while I finish your massage," he said softly. 

She nodded. "The one you used last time?"

"Yes. I don't think you're ready for the next size up yet." _But you will be soon._ He had to concentrate, wandlessly summoning the second smallest plug from her bedside table. The drawer slid open, and he caught the plug in his left hand. Keeping his fingers inside her, he swirled the plug through the coconut oil. He wasn't used to using oil, but he found it a good choice, enjoying the soft slip. Her oil didn't have any scent or flavor. He could get it all over her without gagging when he licked it off. That would come in handy one day.

Hermione breathed deeply as he eased the plug up to her hole then pulled out his fingers. The plug slid in with no effort, sinking right into place as if it were made to fit her. 

Severus muttered a cleansing spell on his hands then climbed off the backs of her legs so he could roll her over. Gripping her hips, he turned her onto her back, smirking at the doped expression on her face. "Now, let's see if we can get all the knots out of your pussy."

Hermione smiled. "I don't have any knots in my pussy."

He started on the joints of her pelvis. "We'll see about that."  
  
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Hermione had never felt so liquid and flowing in all her life. She lay on her back, one leg scissored up, pressed to his chest. Her other leg was stretched out, and he was straddling it, kneeling above her, thrusting at a slight angle. He'd been right about the knots in her pussy, but now that he'd rubbed them away, she was like a reed in the wind. He could bend her into any shape he wanted. The piercing heat of his black eyes shot straight through her stomach and down to her core. One of his long fingers teased her clit as he thrust. She was going to come any minute.

Severus pulled her foot to his lips and sucked her big toe into his mouth. She moaned his name and gripped the sheets so hard her knuckles went white. He could feel her body starting to tense. She was close.

Lightening his touch on her clit, he watched her face as she panted up at him. He wanted to draw this out, make her love it. Her pussy coiled tighter and tighter, her body turning to steel in his hands. He nipped her toe and dragged his teeth along the length of it.

Hermione usually thought of her orgasms as one big burst of pleasure, but she was starting to see that it was really a progression of sensations. There was that sudden moment where she was on her way, a balancing act where the train had left the station but hadn't crested the hill. Once that became a rush of oncoming tension, she hit the ceiling and danced for a few seconds on a tiptop peak of overwhelming pressure, a still point where she was neither climbing nor falling. When that point toppled, she was floating, riding the spasms all the way back down to reality. The aftermath was nice too: the twitching in her pussy, the heady rush of peace that washed over her. Each section varied in length and intensity, making each orgasm slightly different; but each station had its own appeal.

Currently, she was in the grips of that first take off. The peak was rushing toward her, dangling her right on the edge of the mountain path. He had her dancing precariously on the lip of the volcano. It was going on far longer than she could ever remember. If she didn't reach the summit soon she was going to scream.

The culminating forces suddenly reached their zenith, and her toe curled in his mouth. “Severus!” The dam was just seconds away from spilling over. Everything had wound to a tight tipping point. He stayed deep, his cock rocking into her with each short thrust, playing her along the razor’s edge. She started to fall over the cliff, a long moan of release springing to her lips as her pussy pulsed around him, riding the waves unfurling through her body. 

Severus held her gaze the whole time, watching every sensation play out over her features. She was the sexiest witch in the universe when she came. He wanted a repeat. Her body went limp as she came down, and he released her toe with a grunt of desire. "More."  
  
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Hermione was passed out on his chest. Severus had his eyes open to the dark room. There was enough light filtering in around the window shade so he could see. Her dark brown hair tangled around his fingers as he stroked her head. It had been one hell of a day. She looked as though she'd been shagged into a lump of pudding.

He was currently lying in one of the many wet spots she'd left earlier. He didn't mind. He wanted to soak in that pool of glory. Touching his lips to the top of her head, he kissed her goodnight. She'd fallen asleep before he could do it while she was conscious. They hadn't snogged the way they had the weekend before, and he missed it. Fucking her in every position under the sun was a bloody brilliant way to spend the day, but he wanted to feel her breathing over his lips, her tongue tasting his. Maybe tomorrow he could work that into their coupling. 

“Goodnight, Hermione.”  
  
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"Severus!"

He grunted as he knelt between her bent legs and lifted her hips, leaving her balanced on her shoulders and the tips of her toes. Bridging her up until she was aligned with his cock, he held her suspended in his hands as he slid inside. Her tits bounced up toward her face with every thrust, and she tried to press her toes into the bed for leverage. He was about to lose it. They'd been going at it since breakfast, and if she hadn't fallen off the bed earlier, she would be on her fifth orgasm. As it was, she was straining for the fourth.

"Relax," he muttered. "Let it happen."

Hermione stared at the ceiling, her brain going mushy with need. Or maybe it just felt like that because all the blood was rushing to her head. Her calf started to twitch, and she reached for him. "Stop stop stop! My leg is cramping."

Severus pulled out and eased her down. She winced as he straightened her leg, but she finally breathed out a sigh and dropped her head back to the bed. He ran his hand down her side, soothing her trembling body. "I'll get you a banana and some salt."

She looked at him in confusion. "For the next position?"

He snickered. "No. So you leg won't cramp again. Just give me a minute."

Hermione's pussy felt as if she'd been reamed by a broom handle. Her thighs were wet with juice, and she was starting to wonder how she was going to ever get the sheets clean. This was fun and exciting, but it wasn't very relaxing. Another day of sexual acrobatics might be more than her body could withstand. 

He came back with a banana and a small cup of water. Handing her the cup first, he nodded at her to drink it. "There's salt in it. Down it fast."

Hermione chugged it in two gulps. It wasn't terrible. He handed her the banana, and she started to eat it as he settled down on his side next to her. His erection was starting to fade, but she didn’t want it to go. Cupping his balls, she smiled at him around her banana.

Snape’s lips twitched into a smile. "Don't get me worked up if you're not ready for more."

"Can we save the rest of these positions for another day? I'm so bloody tired."

Snape grinned and nodded. "What would you like to do instead?"

"Oh, I still want to shag. I'm really close, and your balls must be approaching full capacity. I just want it to be easy."

"You mean you just want me to fuck you the way I usually do?"

She nodded, peeling her banana the rest of the way. "Yes. Nothing either of has to strain for."

He smiled, brushing back her hair. "Nice and slow?"

Hermione sighed as his fingers trailed down her neck. "MmHm. Face to face, so I can kiss you. And you can do that thing to my neck that makes my pussy leak all over the place."

He chuckled and took her banana peel from her, tossing it onto the table. "In that case, I have one more position I want you to try."

Hermione watched him stack up the pillows against the headboard. They were steep and inclined, forming a rough triangle. She used to arrange them the same way when she had heartburn and couldn't lie flat. He waved her over and urged her to lean back.

"That's it," he murmured as she got into place. “Pull up your knees.”

When she was reclining comfortably, he got between her spread thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips. Now he could sit back or lean forward, giving himself more thrusting angles and hand options. He wasn't hard enough anymore, but he knew a comeback was in the works. One hand went to her breast, and he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. She smiled at him and ran her fingers along the side of his face then tipped up her nose to brush his. 

Hermione swept her mouth over his, making her own lips tingle with the contact. Her nerve endings were lit up like a Christmas tree. He moved in closer and kissed her softly as his half-hard prick nestled itself in her shellacked shell. Her mouth clasped at his, hungry for his flavor. He caught her lower lip, and she sighed in contentment as he gently nipped her. When his tongue finally met with hers, she felt as if a juicy bomb were going off in her mouth. 

Snape countered her agile tongue, mirroring her moves and following everywhere she led. He'd let her take over the oral choreography while he concentrated on grinding his growing cock into her cleft. Her crux was coated in satin ambrosia, a warm, wet home for him to burrow into. By the time his entire length was slick with her arousal, he was back to full strength, his dick straining between them, begging for the warmth of her inner sanctum. 

Hermione moaned as he entered her. His thick knob parted her folds, sliding into her depths with ease. He started to grind into her, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Sinking in as far as he could, he circled his hips against her, his cock stirring through her channel, his glans tracing the circumference of her cervix. It made her belly clench. How did he create such a plethora of pleasure inside her without even thrusting? It felt bloody fantastic.

Snape released her lips and licked the fading love bites he'd left on her neck. He'd give her some new ones so she wouldn't forget him during the week. He wondered if she was concealing them with a glamour when she went to work or if she was just wearing more high-necked fashions.

Hermione's clit throbbed every time he sucked her pulse. Her hand dropped to his shoulder, and she let her nails take over, scratching a light path down to his right nipple; when she started to scrape a circle around the perimeter, he growled into her neck. Her playful pinch earned her a nip of his teeth. "Ah!" 

Snape grinned and licked the abraded marks. Sliding his hand between them, he brushed over her clit. His lips found her ear, and he nipped at her lobe. "Are you enjoying this position?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Say my name. Sir is for spankings."

She smiled, kissing the side of his face. "Severus."

"Is this little pussy ready to come again?"

"I'm getting close."

He could tell. Her belly and thighs tensed each time her body neared its goal. One more round of close calls would leave her panting like a dog. He swept back and forth over the apex of her slit, just barely grazing her swollen pearl. "Tell me what makes you come when you're alone. What do you think about?"

"You on top of me, watching me."

Snape smiled and leaned back a little, meeting her gaze. "What else?"

She shivered as he ground his hips into her a little faster. "You talking to me."

"What do I say?"

Hermione blushed. "Sometimes you just tell me how close I'm getting and how much you want me to come, but a lot of the time you sort of threaten me."

"Threaten you?" He wasn't going to threaten her to orgasm.

"That sounds a bit harsh when I say it out loud. You say things like . . . you're going to spank me later or use the plug on me. You're just very detailed about it."

Snape chuckled down at her. "You mean like . . . you'd better come for me right now, or tonight after I give you a bath, I'm going to bring you back in here and put you over my knee. I'm going to lube up your naughty little bottom, and we're going to see how fast you can come when you're getting stretched and spanked at the same time."

She started up at him in surprise. "Yes, like that."

"I wasn't just saying that to turn you on. It's what I intend to do."

"Really?"

The hopeful lilt in her voice made him smile. "Yes." He braced both hands on the pillows so he could pick up the pace of his grinding. Leaning close so her eyes were all he could see, he engaged all engines, preparing to drive her off the cliff. "Just relax. This little pussy's going to cream my cock any minute now. Do you feel that ache deep inside?"

She nodded, unable to find any words with him staring at her like that.

"Do you like it?"

She nodded again.

"It'll keep feeling like that, and you'll think you're not even close. Then all the sudden, it will transform into sweet . . . deep . . . perfection." Every promise was accompanied by a circle of his hips.

"How do you know?" she managed to whisper.

"Experience. All you have to do is follow the pleasure. Don't reach for it. Let it find you."

She could do that. Hermione held him closer, and his grinding sped up even more. His lips touched her forehead, and she closed her eyes as he rasped a string of soothing praise like a lascivious lullaby. He told her she was beautiful, that he wanted to watch her come again and again. He told her that she had the prettiest pussy he'd ever seen, and he wanted to lick her clean after she came. His rumbly voice sank to her sex, adding an invisible stimulation that couldn't be matched.

Just when she thought she was going to go mad, her body did just what he said it would, suddenly growing the sweetest bloom of pleasure she'd ever felt. That rising first phase of her climax swelled and swirled, leaving her wondering if she would ever see the peak. "Severus!"

He stared down at her, watching her jaw drop. She looked both shocked and pleased. Her pussy spasmed around him, and he gritted his teeth, growling as he stopped fighting his own release. Keeping his eyes on her face, he let his balls have their way, his sac seizing with success. He pressed his forehead to hers and groaned her name as he spilled himself inside her. His cock pulsed, drowning her in his seed. It would be dripping out of her for hours. "Fuck!"

Hermione smiled, keeping her arms around him so he'd rest against her. "Will you do that again later?"

He breathed out a short laugh. "Tonight. After your bedtime spanking."

"After bath-time?"

"MmHm."

"You'll be in the bath with me, won't you?"

"That was the plan."

"Good. I want to lick you clean."

"In the tub or right now?"

Her grin became a sneaky smile, and she beamed up at him. “Both."  
  
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Hermione lay curled against him that night, listening to the slow in and out of his breathing. He would leave the next morning, and that same pang of emptiness that she felt every time he walked away would return. It was the same when he pulled out after sex, as if a part of her was suddenly missing. Monday mornings never used to bother her, but now they seemed particularly depressing. It was the longest time she had to go without seeing him again.

She was a little surprised how quickly he’d agreed to go to Australia with her. Creating that list of convincing reasons had been completely unnecessary. It would be nice to not have to go by herself. Her trips were complicated. And personal. They were both happy and sad, and she didn’t think too many people would want to travel over 10,000 miles with her only to watch her cry and spy on her parents. But Snape had already seen her cry, and he knew all about her parents. She didn’t have to hide anything from him. He didn’t seem to mind her teetering moods and wouldn’t think she’d gone batty because of any random breakdowns.

Maybe the trip would be better with him along. Maybe he’d keep her from slipping into a depressive spiral. He had with Barnabas. He’d let her be sad and angry without trying to direct her feelings; then he’d guided her back to her regular life with a gentle prodding, helping her see that she could feel the pain without letting it swallow her whole. He also made her see that avoidance wasn’t the fastest road to recovery. If she just cried without trying to restrain herself, the sorrow lost some of its grip. When she was no longer scared of feeling too much, the tears became cleansing rather than wet rips in her sanity.

He was the best thing that had happened to her in years. The world was starting to feel like a hopeful place again. Maybe she wouldn’t be sad forever. Maybe he was right: maybe her friends’ deaths shouldn’t rest solely on her shoulders. Maybe she could feel sad for them _and_ honor their memory the way she had with Barnabas.

Maybe she could forgive herself the way Snape had forgiven her. He hadn’t berated her wordy blunder or even told her to be more careful in the future. It seemed as though she was more upset by what she’d written than he was. It must have hurt him terribly to be reminded of his past like that, but he was still waiting at her door, ready to give her what she needed. He was always giving her so much, and she had given him nothing but some hugs and tugs. He deserved so much more. Maybe she could make Christmas special for him this year. It sounded as though the holiday wasn’t usually too happy for him. Some crafty finagling on her part had scored her the perfect gift for him, but Christmas wasn’t about presents; it was about the warm glow of giving and the joy of being with people you cared about. Maybe he’d never felt that before.

It would be the best Christmas ever if she could leave him with a warmer heart.

Hermione softly kissed his chest so she wouldn’t wake him. “Goodnight, Severus.”


	10. I Come From a Land Down Under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is now officially dedicated to my friend Desert_Sea. During the initial editing this chapter, I came upon her story, The Quickening, and was inspired to up my writing game. Although I am daunted by her mastery of words (and seemingly endless vocabulary), reading her stories makes me want to be a better writer. While I have many muses, DS is the only one who listens to my ramblings on writing and life; and for that, she deserves the highest honors. Thanks, DS :)

Severus watched the last of the students file out of the Great Hall. The train would be gone in less than an hour, taking with it the children who were slowly eating away his soul. The freedom coursing through his veins bordered on giddiness. Getting through that last batch of tests before the holidays was a nightmare. The students always checked out early, and he had to become an unforgiving bastard just to keep them on task. 

Minerva was at the front doors, wishing everyone a happy holiday as they left; but she abandoned her post when she saw him trying to sneak down to the dungeons undetected. "Severus, you're not going to hide in your room the entire holiday, are you?"

He sighed and glanced longingly at the dungeon door. "Not the entire time, no."

"There are eight students staying behind; only one from Slytherin. We shouldn't have too much trouble keeping an eye on them."

 _I couldn't care less._ "I'm leaving for few days."

“You are?" She studied him shrewdly over the top of her spectacles. “When will you return?”

"I should be back before Christmas."

"Where are you going?"

He gave her a look that said it was none of her business and kept his mouth shut. 

"I'm not trying to pry," she said softly. 

"I am accompanying someone out of the country."

"The same someone you've been seeing every weekend?"

He said nothing. She seemed to find his silence answer enough. 

"Very well," McGonagall sighed. "I'll look after Miss Brunne. There's nothing sadder than a Slytherin all alone on Christmas."

Severus knew she was commenting on his own life.

"The staff will be disappointed if you don’t attend the Christmas party."

He snorted.

"It's true," she assured him. "Who else complains about the eggnog not being brewed properly then proceeds to consume the entire bowl by himself? Your drunken dancing is the highlight of every party."

Snape glared at her. 

"I'm sure Pomona's forgiven for you dropping her during that dip last year."

He gritted his teeth. “You’ll have to find a new party game to entertain yourselves.” _You drop one witch and they never let you forget about it._

Minerva was so curious as to what kind of witch had caught their sullen Potions master in her web. Was she a black widow with a bite as venomous as Snape’s, or had he found some innocent chit who didn’t know that sex wasn't supposed to be snarky?

"Have you gotten your new friend a nice present yet?" she asked, smiling innocently.

He'd seen that same knowing smile on Dumbledore's face a hundred times. _Bloody busybodies_. "No. I'd better get to Diagon Alley before the weather worsens. If you'll excuse me," he growled, turning his back on her puckered smirk and stalking away before she could respond.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione hefted her strap over her shoulder to make sure her bag was secure. They were traveling light. Snape only had his black valise.

The night was cold and clear, but the clean air did nothing to settle her nerves. She always felt the same before setting out for Australia: excited and a little sick. While she found it soothing to have Snape holding her hand, it didn’t quell the rolling nausea in the pit of her stomach. She desperately wanted to see her parents, but it was heartbreaking to be treated like a stranger. There was a little voice in her head telling her to just forget it and run back to the safety of her bed. Snape would keep her warm. _No_. She shook her head. _Don't assume the worst. Maybe this trip will be different._

They arrived in the alley, and she looked up at him. “Ready to go?”

“Are you?” Snape countered. She looked as if she was coming down with something. He ran his hand over the side of her face, checking her temperature.

Hermione nodded. “I’m okay. I’m just nervous.”

He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m ready when you are. Don’t splinch me.” He hadn’t let anyone Apparate him in years. The trust it required turned his stomach. But she was a careful witch; he should make it in one piece.

“I won’t splinch you,” she said with a small smile. “Hold tight. Here goes.” With a whip of her wand, they disappeared in a whirl of black wool.

Snape's ears popped as he emerged in the new environment, and he dropped his jaw to equalize the pressure. Releasing her, he discreetly felt his body to make sure all his parts had arrived with him.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re still in one piece, Severus. I have Apparated before, you know?"

“Just double-checking.”

He looked around, blinking at the sudden appearance of the sun. They had materialized in a small desolate grove. The trees towered over them like silent sentinels. “Where are we exactly?”

Hermione took off her cloak and tucked it under her arm. “We’re just outside Castle Hill. It’s a wizarding town in Sydney.” 

Snape removed his cloak as well. He was boiling. She took his hand, and they started down the well-worn path.

They wound through the trees, and Severus could make out the stark lines of a village as they approached civilization. They came out behind a slouchy brick building, and she led him around front, out into the busy street. It reminded him of Diagon Alley, but the buildings didn’t look as old, and it wasn’t as squashed and overcrowded. There were witches and wizards milling about in summer clothes, talking and laughing as they finished their last-minute shopping.

Hermione and Severus drew a few stares as they made their way through the streets. He was unsure if that was due to their age difference or their inappropriate attire. They stayed along the border of the town, gradually leaving behind the bustling business sector and crossing into an older area where the shops were detached and suffering from the symptoms of old age. They turned into a little square that was more quaint village than city center. The buildings had a Tudor appearance, dark wood framing the corners and sills. Despite the ravages of time, there was no sense of abandonment or dereliction. It had a close-knit, friendly feel that suggested neighbors and strangers alike were welcome at any doorstep.

She took him to a little inn at the end of the cul-de-sac. Its white stone walls were greying and dingy, but there were cheerful flowers growing in the window boxes and a grey-striped cat lounging in the sun like a purring welcome mat. They stepped over the cat and went inside.

The lower level seemed to be all pub. The walls were dark wood, making him feel as if he had stepped inside a cherry-paneled cave. A grey-haired woman was polishing a glass behind the bar, and she looked up when the bell above the door tinkled. A smile spread over her face. “Miss Wilkins! So good to see you again. I just finished getting your room ready.”

Hermione smiled at the woman. “Thanks, Gretchen. It's good to see you too. Is the key still on the peg?”

Gretchen looked Snape up and down, amusement twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Just where it always is. Who’s your friend?”

Hermione led him over to the bar. “This is—“

“Niccolò Prince,” he cut in. If she was going to use an alias, it would be safer if he did too. Snape held out his hand to the woman, and she set down her towel to shake it. “But everyone calls me Nick,” he lied smoothly.

Gretchen smiled, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Will you be sharing, or should I go make up the bed in 202?”

Hermione shook her head. “We’re sharing. And don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair by Christmas Eve.”

Gretchen laughed. “Out of my hair? You know Bartholomew and I love having you. You’re our favorite guest; no one else leaves the room cleaner than when they arrived.”

Hermione grinned and pulled Snape towards the staircase. “Thanks, Gretchen. We’ll go unpack and then head out. Don’t bother saving us anything for dinner. We’ll go into the city.”

“All right, dear. Have fun,” Gretchen called after her. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Prince.”

He nodded a farewell as Hermione dragged him around the corner. She plucked a key from a nail on the wall, and they climbed the narrow, creaking staircase to the second floor. When they got to the top, Snape looked around at the three doors surrounding the little hall. She opened the second one and went in.

The room was a small garret—simple but homey. The walls were white and dimming with age, but there was a faded flower pattern painted along the top border. An old, squat dresser sat against one wall, and the brass bed sat across from it. The patchwork quilt covering the bed was the only real color in the room; everything else was plain and worn. "How did you find this place?"

"When I first started coming to Castle Hill, I stayed at the big hotel; but one night I was wandering around and stumbled over that cat outside. Gretchen’s husband, Bartholomew, came out to help me, and I wound up falling asleep in front of their fire. I've stayed here ever since. I prefer the quiet. Plus I like Gretchen and Bart. They're the kind of people who would help me if I was in trouble.”

Hermione set her bag on the dresser and opened it up to find something more comfortable to wear. She pulled out a navy blue sundress and started to take off her clothes to change.

Snape looked over, his brows perking toward his hairline as she stripped down to her bra and knickers. “What are you doing?”

“Changing. It’s nice outside. I want to enjoy it.”

“I suppose frock coats are a bit out of place now,” he muttered, running his hands over his chest.

“Aren’t you burning up?”

He nodded and started to undo his buttons. “I only have one white shirt. Do you think it’ll be cool enough?”

She looked back at him. “Is it long-sleeved?”

“It’s a normal dress shirt.”

“Just roll up the sleeves . . . and cast a cooling charm on it.”

Severus used his wand to unbutton everything then dug his white shirt out of his bag. _Thank Merlin I wore cotton trousers instead of wool_. He watched Hermione dashing about the room in her underwear, getting herself ready to go out. She seemed to be in a hurry. He didn’t know if she was just nervous about seeing her parents or if she was starting to panic. He slipped on his white shirt and rolled up his sleeves, leaving the buttons undone until he cooled off.

Catching her arm as she passed, Severus steered her in a wide circle so she faced him. She stared into his eyes questioningly, and he rested his hand over her heart to feel its speed. Too fast. Drawing his fingertips across her collarbone, he let his hand trail over the soft hills of her breasts. “Just give me a second here.”

Hermione smiled as his fingers tickled her skin. Her racing thoughts downshifted to a lower gear. “Are you going to pet me all day?”

“Just a touch for now. When we get back to the room later, I’ll get a taste of you too.”

She couldn’t stop grinning at the mental image. “That sound nice. You know, you look good in white.” Her hand went inside his shirt to stroke his bare chest. “You should wear it all the time.”

“And abandon my signature color?” he asked in mock horror.

“MmHm,” she hummed with a nod. “You should abandon buttons too. I like you like this.”

Her stroking strayed south to his waistband, and she grazed his placket with her palm. Snape grinned at her sneaky groping. “Don’t you dare. I have no desire to wander around Sydney with my cock loaded and ready.”

She snorted into his chest. “But you’ll be so popular.”

He shook his head, pulling her hand from his crotch to kiss her fingers. “Popularity is overrated. I prefer intimate affairs. Besides, that particular package is just for you.”

“Put a bow on it and you don’t have to get me anything else for Christmas.”

He smirked. “You should have told me that before I went shopping the other day.”

Her eyes brightened. “You bought me a present?”

“Of course I did.” He leaned down and nuzzled her ear, giving her bum a squeeze. “Good girls get the best presents.”

Hermione shivered as he kissed her ear. “You coming here with me was the best present.”

“Really? Because I happen to think you running about in your skivvies is the gift that keeps giving.”

She kissed his neck. “I’m glad you like it, but I seriously meant that. I’m really glad you’re here.”

He didn’t know what to say in response, so he just wrapped his arms around her. “I told you I would help you in whatever way I could.”

“You are,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder and then resting her cheek against it.

That itching in his chest was back. His heart was starting to leak again. And if she kept breathing on his neck like that, he was going to be touring Australia with his dick jabbing him in the gut. He kissed her cheek and slid his other hand down to her arse. “Don’t wear any knickers today. I like to think about your naked little fanny just out of sight under that skirt.”

Hermione grinned. “It is awfully warm out. I guess I could do with one less layer.”

He nudged the back of her knickers lower and tickled the top of her crack. “Tis the season.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione took him into muggle Sydney and pointed out the places she’d visited before. Severus held her hand and listened attentively, but he was really watching her body language. She was putting on a show. Her words said, “look how happy I am to be here,” but her posture said, “I’m going to be sick.” He was worried about her. This trip wasn’t exactly a holiday, but he had hoped seeing her parents would be a bittersweet moment that left her more healed than hurt. That didn't seem likely. At the rate she was going, she would collapse before they set eyes on the Grangers. She was getting more tense by the minute.

They wandered into a small, posh outdoor shopping center that surrounded a brick courtyard. There was a fountain at the other end and colorful beds of flowers blocking the center aisle. She took him to one of the wooden benches interspersing the median and pulled him down next to her. They sat with the fountain far off to their right, and Snape glanced around at the shoppers (unable to break the habit of checking his surroundings and noting all possible exits and threats).

“That’s their office,” she said softly.

He looked in the direction she nodded and noticed one of the plate glass windows had a large toothy smile painted above the words “Monica & Wendell Wilkins, Family Dentistry.” Snape put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. “Have you ever gone in?”

She nodded without looking away from the storefront. "They've cleaned my teeth twice.”

He heard the quiver in her voice. Reaching over, he held her hand in his. “Would you like to go in now?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. It’s too hard. I usually just sit here and wait for them to come out. They should be leaving in just a little while.”

He kissed her head, brushing away the rebellious curls that tried to shoot up his nose. “All right.”

Severus watched the building with her, the shadows shifting on the walk as the afternoon wore on. Not too many people were going to the dentist just before Christmas, but he saw one family with a little girl leaving the office as a gawky teenager with a swollen jaw went in. The little girl danced about the walkway, grinning broadly and asking every passing stranger if they had any cavities. Apparently she didn’t and wanted to make sure everybody knew it. Her parents held her hands and smiled apologetically at the passing people.

The family made their way down the walkway, stopping to swing the little girl between them like a squealing monkey. Snape was glad when they left. He didn’t want to see any children when he wasn’t on the clock.

Hermione smiled up at him. “I don’t have any cavities either.”

He smirked. “Maybe you should run after your soulmate there and have a chat about the wonders of flossing.”

She kept smiling and went back to her store-spying. “I just thought I’d mention it. I wanted you to know what a good girl I am.”

He chuckled under his breath and stroked the back of her neck. “Duly noted. Did you want to bend over my lap right now so I can reward you properly?”

A blush crept up her face, and Hermione shook her head. “I’ll wait till later.”

Severus was relieved to see her smiling. Maybe she was loosening up a little now that her parents were so close. He studied the storefront for a bit and wondered what the Grangers were really like. The photos on her wall painted a pretty picture, but he didn’t know if they were honest representations or not. Posing was expected in photographs. Maybe they weren’t as happy as they appeared. They'd raised an interesting daughter, which was a plus in their favor; and they must be fairly intelligent to have a child so devoted to education. Dentistry wasn't a profession he knew much about, but he couldn't imagine what kind of people woke up one day and decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives sticking their hands in other peoples' mouths.

The shops in the square were busy; there was no shortage of shoppers to watch. Severus listened to clips of banal chitchat as they passed. Holiday plans. Who would be at the party later. What to buy for Uncle Bob. The world as a whole bored him to tears, but he’d stay there with her until midnight if that was what she wanted. Sitting with her was pleasant under any circumstances.

Anytime he got sick of the parade of pinheads, he just went back to watching her. Her eyes stayed locked on the office, but she stroked the back of his thumb with hers; so he knew she was still aware of his presence. She looked quite pretty in her sundress, and Severus let his thoughts wander to what was under it. Or rather what wasn’t under it. Her knickers were back in the room, sitting on top of her bag. He’d taken them off her himself, making her hold up her dress while he pulled them down. That had brought a nice blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips. Her pussy lips seemed equally pleased. He’d slid a finger through her folds to get a baseline reading. Damp but not drenched. He'd rectify that later.

Running about all day with no knickers was bound to leave her dripping. He’d kept his hands off of her so far, not wanting to confuse her mental state with one more conflicting emotion; but when they got back, he intended to pull up that dress and take a nice leisurely tour of her outback.

Leaning in a bit closer, he tried to get a whiff of her. There was too much fresh air for him to sniff out her excitement. _Damn fresh air._ He liked how little she wore in this weather, but the cold back home had forced them to keep each other warm. There were drawbacks to each climate.

He started to imagine her bent over that little bed back at the inn. She’d look lovely draped over some pillows, her legs spread so he could see her shiny slit. He would lick her until she came all over his face. Maybe he'd give her arse a good stretching while he feasted on her folds. She liked that.

“There they are,” Hermione whispered.

Severus jerked out of his reverie and watched as the man and woman from Hermione’s wall came to life and exited the office. Her father locked the door behind them then offered Mrs. Granger his arm. She slid her hand around his elbow, and they started back toward the main road. Hermione looked after them, a knitted expression of longing on her face. 

“Come on,” he muttered, urging her up. “Let’s follow them.”

Hermione slipped her hand into Snape’s, and they tailed her parents from a safe distance. She kept her eyes on their backs, waiting for the moments when they would turn their heads and she could watch them in profile.

“Do they live nearby?” Snape asked, pacing their steps so they would't get too close.

“No, they’ve got a car somewhere.”

The couple went down the road then entered a restaurant Hermione had pointed out on the trip over. Severus looked down at her. “Feeling peckish?”

Hermione tried to peer through the window to follow their progress. “They’ll see us.”

 _So?_ “Let’s go in. We haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

He opened the door for her, and Hermione crept in, searching for her parents in all directions. A woman with menus greeted them and started to lead them over to a table.

Snape held out his hand to stop her. “Do you mind if we take that table by the window? She likes the sun.”

The hostess gave him a funny look then shrugged. “Sure.”

She took them to the table right behind the Grangers, and Snape pulled out a chair for Hermione, arranging things so she could watch her parents while she ate.

They took their seats, and Snape studied the menu while she studied the Wilkins. The waiter brought them their water, and Snape told him they’d be ready to order in a couple minutes.

Severus reached across the table and touched her hand. "Hermione."

She looked at him, snapped from her spying trance. 

"Are you all right?"

She nodded and gave him a weak smile.

"What would you like to eat?"

She glanced down at the menu. "I'll have whatever you're having."

He nodded and scanned the menu. "Roast chicken and potatoes?"

"Sure," she answered absently.

"I've never had dinner with a witch's parents before."

Hermione's lips twitched into a real smile. "I think they'd like you."

He snorted and kept his voice low. "The man who's spanking and fucking their daughter?"

She bit her own laugh from her lips. "No, the intelligent and brave war hero who's helping their daughter get better."

"Ah. He does sound better than me."

Hermione shook her head, breathing out a soft laugh. "You're all those things and then some."

Severus felt her foot touch his under the table, and his skin buzzed at the bump. How did the simple tapping of her toes against his get his motor going? He slid his foot between hers and let her rub against his calf. Maybe she would work off some of that nervous tension.

The waiter came back, and Snape placed their orders. They waited for their food in silence, both of them staying quiet in an attempt to overhear her parents. Only the odd word was loud enough to reach them, but Hermione was hanging onto every syllable as if she could understand what they were saying. Severus didn’t have any objections to a quiet dinner. He just wanted to be with her. It was a bit odd to sit at a table with someone who was staring over his shoulder as if he wasn't there, but he wanted to make sure she got whatever it was she needed from this trip. If she just wanted to be close to them for a while, he would facilitate the reunion.

Hermione couldn’t really hear what was being discussed, but the soft murmur of her parents’ conversation took her back to happier times. From where Hermione sat, all she could see of her mother was her curly hair. It was just like her own, except her mum always kept hers swept back. It was still the same even after all these years. Her father was facing her, and she had a clear shot of his smiling face as he sipped his wine. He looked the same too. Maybe a little less hair and a few more wrinkles. Their conversation became more giggly, and Hermione wondered what they were talking about. Probably patients. Or maybe they were discussing holiday plans. What was Christmas like for them now? Did they go out? Did they invite over their friends? Maybe they stayed cuddled together in the house the way they used to back home.

The waiter brought her parents' food, and Hermione noted their chosen entrées. Her dad had gotten some kind of chicken dish. She couldn’t properly see her mum’s plate. Probably pasta. Did people’s tastes change when their memories had been altered? Her dad used to make a chicken Alfredo that was famous throughout the neighborhood. Did he still cook? He used to spend hours in the kitchen. On weekends he would go out and grill, leaving the house smelling of smoke when he came in.

Did her mum still paint? Did they play bridge with their friends? Did her Dad still tell those corny dentist jokes he got from eight-year-olds? Had she taken that away from them too? Were they happy here? They certainly appeared happy. She was ashamed to feel a spark of jealousy. How could they be so happy without her? Didn't they miss her at all? Didn't they have some unconscious desire for their child? Did they ever dream about her? That was what she liked to believe. Maybe every night, when they were both under the spell of Morpheus, the rooms that she’d walled off in their minds opened up and let out some memories. They were still a family in that realm.

“Hermione?” Snape muttered, joggling her leg with his. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to eat?”

She looked down. When had they brought this? Snape’s plate was already half-empty. Hermione picked up her fork and ate some of the potatoes. She barely tasted them.

Severus kept one eye on her, but he said nothing more. He wasn’t going to force feed her. She’d eat when she got hungry. Maybe pretending to have dinner with her parents was the gift she needed most this Christmas.

Hermione absently picked at her food as she watched her parents eat. It was sort of like being back home in their kitchen—except her parents were ignoring her. Her mum didn't ask her how things were going. Her dad didn't tell her any funny stories about the teeth he'd cleaned that day. This was a sad imitation of their old life. But, still, it was the closest thing she'd had to normalcy in a long time. She'd never had the nerve to sit down right next to them. Snape had gotten her a front row seat. Glancing at him, she felt guilty for not paying more attention to him. If he hadn't come along, she wouldn't have had this opportunity. She was grateful he was there with her, his leg pressed to hers under the table. She needed his steady influence. He never seemed to be in a hurry. Sometimes he became uncontrollably passionate, but even then he wasn't rushed. He just got more intense.

What would her parents think about her seeing Snape? She'd never considered it before. Would they politely ignore their age difference? Would they think she was off her rocker? Her parents were the kind of people who waited until they got to know someone before making up their mind, but Snape wasn't the kind of man any parent would expect their daughter to bring home. And if they ever found out how they'd met . . . bloody hell. Which was worse, _he was my professor,_ or _I put a sub-seeks-dom personal in the Prophet?_

_I guess that's not something I ever have to worry about. They don't know who I am, and they don't care that my ex-professor is spanking me every weekend. They don't know what I do for a living. They don't know where I live. They don't know that I graduated university. They don't even know I'm alive._

Severus hadn't seen her move for several minutes. Her face was becoming a mask of torment. He didn't know if she was sad or just tense. Reaching out, he put his hand over hers and stroked the back of her wrist. She met his eyes, and her expression softened. _There's my sweet witch. Is this too much for you?_ Maybe it was more painful for her to be so close and yet still feel so far away.

Hermione barely noticed as Snape paid the check and the waiter transferred her food to a doggie bag. She was trying to memorize every millimeter of movement her parents made. They would go home soon, and she'd have to leave behind her fake family dinner. Her dad paid the check, and her mum finished her cup of coffee. It was decaf. She'd be up all night if it was regular.

Severus saw the tightening of Hermione's features as her parents rose to leave. He waited until they were out the door then took Hermione's hand and went after them. 

Severus kept her hand in his and restrained her when she tried to overtake them. "Don't let them see you again so soon. They'll know we're following them if they recognize you from the restaurant."

Hermione nodded and fell into step beside him. Her parents stopped and chatted with a few people on the street, and Hermione pretended to be interested in a window display so she could catch their conversation. She couldn't make out anything except her mother's laugh.

Snape tugged her arm when her parents started to walk again, and she saw her Dad approach a white car parked on the side of the road. Her parents got in, and Severus led her past just as they were pulling away. The car slowly disappeared down the road, and she stopped walking when it was no longer visible, staring at the pinpoint on the horizon where their car had blinked out of sight.

"Did they seem happy to you?" she whispered.

Severus put his arm around her. "Yes. How was it seeing them?"

She put her hand over her stomach. "It hurts."

He pulled her in, hugging her in the middle of the sidewalk so everyone had to stream around them. "I know."

She buried her face in his cool white shirt. "They didn't even notice me."

He hugged her tighter. "They're missing out."

Hermione gave his shirt a watery smile. "What did you think of them?"

"They seemed nice." He kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you tell me about them. We'll take the scenic route back to the inn."

Hermione slipped her hand into his, and they turned around and headed back the way they'd come. "Mum wanted to be an artist when she was little. She still paints. Those two watercolors in my room are hers. Dad likes to build things, he made the frames for her paintings. And he's a really good cook. They met each other at uni."

Severus listened as she poured out her parents' life story. It was dark when she ran out of words. They sat for a while on a bench beneath a quiet grove of shade trees, and he held her in his lap until she stopped crying. 

"Whether they remember it or not, you are an amazing daughter. I think they would be proud of you."

That just made the tears fall faster. Hermione hid her face in his neck.

"You take care of everyone but yourself," he whispered. "Someone needs to watch out for you."

She nodded. "You."

"Me?" He didn't know if he was the best man for the job . . . but he wanted to be.

"You're the only one who takes care of me."

He held her tighter. "I'll do the job as long as you want me."

"Thank you.” Hermione rubbed the side of his face, feeling the rough scrape of his stubble. It hurt her fingers, but she needed to make sure he was real. Sometimes the world felt like a crazy dream. “I’m so glad you answered my ad, Severus. My life was too lonely before you came along."

 _Merlin's balls._ He bit his tongue. Was she trying to crack apart his heart?

"I know I seem sad now, but I would have been worse if you weren't here."

He nodded, taking in a slow breath to steady himself. "You are too sweet to ever have to feel that way. If I could take away your pain I would do it in a second."

Hermione smiled though her tears. "You already do."

Severus closed his eyes and pressed his face into her curly hair. "I want to be good for you."

"You are. Look how much better I am since you started coming around."

"Taking care of you is the only worthwhile thing I do."

"Don't say that," she protested, picking up her head. "Teaching is worthwhile. Education is extremely important. And you laid down your life for the wizarding world. What could be more worthwhile?"

"I don't know if I'm doing much good as a teacher. The students dread Potions, and I have the urge to clonk their empty heads together every time I read their essays."

"That doesn't make it not worthwhile."

"And,” he added before she could sugarcoat his life any further, “I didn't lay down my life for the wizarding world." 

Hermione stroked his face, trying to look in his eyes. "You didn't?"

"I . . ." He didn't know if he wanted to tell her. She was the one person whose approval mattered to him. He didn't want to mar her opinion of him. "I only saved Potter because I . . . owed Lily."

The worry melted from her face, and she smiled. "I know."

"Potter told you?"

She nodded. "That doesn't make you any less brave or noble. You fought for love. Why would you think that wasn't worthy?"

He stared at her for a minute, wondering if he should tell her the truth. "Because my reasons were selfish. I was trying to assuage my guilt. I wasn't being noble; I did it to unburden my own soul."

Hermione's smile didn't waver. "If you weren't a decent human being it wouldn't have hurt you so much. Your heart is in the right place, Severus. You've just kept it in the dark for so long you think the light's not meant for you. But I know it is, because no one who sacrifices their life for another person, no matter the reasons, is selfish. You're a good man whether you want to believe it or not."

His tongue would be bleeding soon. He couldn't get his teeth out of it.

Hermione kissed his chin. "You forgive my mistakes so easily, but when it comes to yourself, you have no compassion. You're just like me. Do you think you could ever forgive yourself?”

That was a difficult question. He looked up at the clear night sky for an answer. The moon was bright, and it shone through the rustling leaves. Severus listened to the quiet wind whispering around them and the distant crash of the ocean. Although he'd come to terms with his past, he hadn't forgiven himself. The future might hold many things, but he doubted he would ever find absolution. “I don’t know.”

She nodded. “I don't know if I can forgive myself either. Maybe we can hold onto each other’s forgiveness until we’re ready for it.”

He touched the side of her face, wondering what fluke of nature had landed her in his lap. “You’d better not lose any of mine, because no one else will loan me any.”

Hermione smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “It’s safe with me.”

Severus took another deep breath. His chest suddenly felt much lighter.

Hermione rested her cheek on his shoulder and stuck her nose in his neck. She breathed in the scent of his skin, letting it transport her to her safe place. “You smell so good.”

Snape’s lips ticked up at the corners. “So do you, pet. Do you want to go back to our room and sniff each other?"

Hermione giggled silently into his shoulder then wiped the drying tears from her face with one hand. “Kiss and sniff?”

“Anything you want. Where did you want me to kiss you first?”

She grinned. “Where did you want to sniff me first?”

Snape laughed. “I believe the appropriate answer on this continent is _down under._ ”

"In Australia that’s everywhere. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Severus tickled the side of her hip. “Everywhere was exactly what I had in mind.” He pressed his nose to her cheek. “I’m going to lay you down on the bed and start right _here_.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Then I’ll sniff out your most aromatic areas before tasting each one. I’ll save your pussy for last, because it smells the best.”

Hermione kissed him back. "Has anyone ever told you your balls smell like candy?"

Snape burst out laughing. "No. That's a first."

"Your dick does too. That's why I can't stop sucking on it."

“I didn’t know you had such a sweet tooth. Let’s get you back to the inn. I think we need to test out that bed before we both pass out from exhaustion.”

“I am pretty tired.”

“Too tired to scream my name?” he asked, squeezing her bum.

“I’m always ready to scream your name.” She grinned. “Plus it helps me sleep.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Everything between Hermione’s thighs was drenched. She could feel the silky slip-slide of her labia with every shift of her hips. Snape’s licking had left her a drippy mess. She currently had her face in his lap, repaying the favor. His shaft swelled, giving her plenty to stroke and grip. Gods, she loved the way he felt in her hand. She’d always enjoyed driving a stick shift. Sucking his pretty purple knob into her mouth, she looked up at him and flickered her tongue over the tip.

“Okay,” he said, grimacing. “I don’t think I can get any harder.” His eyes went wide as her nimble fingers slipped behind his balls and proved him wrong. Her perineal massage spread to include his backdoor, and his dick jumped for joy in her mouth. “You’d better be careful, little girl. You’re opening Pandora’s box.”

Hermione grinned up at him. “Pandora’s box makes you _very_ hard.”

He smirked. “Have you ever fingered another person?”

“I’ve read about it.”

Severus breathed out a raspy chuckle. “I bet you have. I think you’d better save that for another night. It’s more of a finisher for me . . . or a resurrection.”

She let go of his dick so it bounced against his abdomen with comical amplitude. “I can see that. It's trying to ascend as we speak.”

Severus swatted her hands away from his arse and pulled her up to face him. “You cheeky little monkey. Do I need to put you over my knee again?”

Hermione shook her head with a smile. Her bum was warm enough. That spanking he'd given her when they got back to the room had been a panty-wetting scorcher.

She’d always thought the phrase “aching for it” was overly dramatic, but she was literally aching for his cock. Her insides clenched at each other, desperate for him to fill the emptiness. Hermione could almost feel him moving in and out of her, and he wasn’t even pressed between her legs yet. 

Severus rolled her over and ground his hips into her heat. The sound of her mewling whimpers was an inspiring soundtrack. “I’m going to pound this pretty pussy through the mattress,” he growled into her neck. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”

She couldn’t keep her hands off him. Her knees tightened around his hips, and she locked him against her. “Please fuck me, Severus. I’ve missed your cock so much.”

Snape smiled and shifted his hips around until his knob found her flooded passageway. “He missed you too, pet. He said a week is too long to go without the wet kiss of your cunt. Does your pussy agree?”

Hermione smiled and tried to force him in. He just kept tipping his flared head into her puddled passion so her sex sounded deafeningly loud. “Yes, she does.”

“Squeeze that pussy around me. Hold on tight.”

Hermione contracted her muscles and groaned as everything became more intense. “Mm!”

“That’s right,” he hissed, sinking in deeper. “Don’t let go of me.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Gretchen looked up at the ceiling above their bed as the sound of squeaking bedsprings drifted from the room overhead. She grinned when she saw her husband’s expression.

Bartholomew glanced at his wife in shock. “What did you say this bloke was like?”

Gretchen burst out in silent guffaws, covering her mouth with one hand. “You know the boy who delivers the groceries?”

He smirked. “You mean the _Count of the canned goods_?” he asked in Transylvanian accent.

She nodded. “Picture him in twenty or thirty years.”

“Our sweet little Jane Wilkins is dating a would-be vampire?”

Gretchen shook her head. “I don’t think he was trying to pass himself off as one of the ‘children of the night.’ He just had that look. Why, what kind of man did you picture her with?”

He stared up at the ceiling as the creaking picked up speed. “Someone quiet and calm. That poor girl needs someone affectionate.”

“He sounds pretty affectionate to me.”

Bart grinned and shook his head. “Think we should tell them to keep it down?”

“No!” Gretchen looked at him in disbelief. “There’s no one else here—they’re not bothering anybody. Besides, she’d die of embarrassment.”

“You think she’s serious about him?”

“Have you ever seen her bring anyone else here in all the years we’ve known her?”

“No.”

“I’m happy for her. It sounds like she found someone she can relate to.”

“ _Unnnnhhhh!”_

They both shook with silent laughter, and Bart took Gretchen’s hand. “Want to give ‘em a run for their money?”

Gretchen smiled and brought his fingers to her lips. “Only if you put up a silencing charm. I don’t want anyone to get jealous.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus dropped his head to her shoulder, brushing her hair to one side so he could breathe without inhaling it. “I’m knackered, pet.”

“Me too,” she croaked.

“Do you think you can sleep?”

“Only for about a hundred years.”

“Are we going spying again tomorrow?”

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I know it must be boring for you to sit around with me all day staring at a building.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I came to be here for you. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one with spying experience. You’re complete bollocks at it.”

Hermione smiled. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I’m surprised you haven't been picked up for vagrancy . . . or stalking.”

“All right then, tomorrow we’ll do it your way.”

He kissed her neck. “You’ll be the star pupil at Snape’s Spy School.”

Severus rolled to his back, keeping her on his chest so she could sleep. After he’d put out the lights, she lifted up and kissed him. The soft warmth of her lips made his stomach melt.

“Night, Severus.”

“Goodnight, Hermione.”

She snuggled into his side, and he felt her eyelashes brush his chest as she closed her eyes.

Snape stayed awake for a while, listening to her breathing deepen and slow. Maybe tomorrow would be easier for her. Maybe the worst was past. He didn't want her to look so sad and lost ever again. He could never replace her parents, but if he put some effort into it, maybe he could help her find some peace with the situation. It was her enormous ability to love that was causing her pain. With a little work, maybe she would see that as a pro rather than a con.

Her sensitive nature was both her downfall and her greatest asset. She was so ready to care, but so open to all the hurt that entailed. He'd opted to close down most ports of emotion to survive, but she'd opened up every dock in the hope that an unplanned shipment would fill the hole in her heart.

In a way, her plan had worked. Her openness had left a door for him to enter through. If she hadn't set out a welcome mat inviting him him in, he never would have trusted her so easily. She never hid how much she loved being with him, and he did his best to be equally forthcoming. Sometimes it was hard for him to admit his private thoughts, but he did it for her. She needed his assurance that she was wanted. 

And he did want her. He wanted her more than anything he'd wanted in a long time.

He held her tighter, stroking her back. _Please let tomorrow be good day for her._ Any witch who could see the virtue in his damaged soul deserved all the happiness the world had to offer.

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Snape was perched on the same bench once more. They’d moved about all morning, pretending to shop and staking out the office from various points of the courtyard. There was a small cafe that sat diagonally to the dentists, and they had an extremely long lunch there, watching from the window. Now they’d returned to the same spot as yesterday like a pair of homing pigeons. 

She’d been quiet all day, not attempting to engage him in conversation. For such a curious witch, the silence seemed wrong. If this were a real holiday she would have been bursting with excitement. She answered him whenever he asked her anything, but he could tell she was lost in her own thoughts. He certainly didn’t mind not talking, but he was concerned she was getting sucked into a spiral of sadness. Putting his arm around her, he squeezed her shoulder, getting her attention. “You all right?”

“MmHm.”

“What are you thinking about?” _I never thought I’d hear myself say that._

“I was thinking about Christmases with my parents. Dad used to make dinner, and Mum would make these pretty centerpieces.”

“What do you usually do on Christmas?”

“Sometimes I stay here until New Years, but for the past few years, I’ve gone to Harry and Ginny’s. I go over around lunch when James is starting to wind down.”

“Do you enjoy that?” It didn’t sound appealing to him in the least.

She smiled and shrugged. “It’s fun. Ron comes over, and we all play with the toys. It takes my mind off things.”

He wanted to invite her to Hogwarts, but that would be complicated. Their privacy would be blown, and he didn’t want her to stay with him out of pity. She was the kind of witch who thought Christmas was about charity, and he didn’t want to be her good deed for the season. 

“Do you want to come over to my place?” she asked, studying his face. “We don’t have to do anything Christmas-y if you don’t want to. We could just spend the day together.”

He arched one eyebrow in consideration. “That Christmas spanking you asked for would be more authentic if it came on the 25th. I’ll have to put in an appearance at school. Minerva’s expecting me for the feast.”

“You could come over afterward. I know Crookshanks will be glad to see you. He hates it when I make him wear the funny hats from the Christmas crackers.”

Severus snickered. “I don’t do funny hats either.”

“How about mistletoe?”

Kissing her forehead, he nodded. “I wouldn’t mind getting stuck under the mistletoe with you.” _For several hours._

Hermione rested her hand on his knee and turned back to the office front. “Excellent. Then after my spanking, we can spend the day kissing each other while we listen to Christmas carols.”

He snorted. “I don’t do Christmas carols either.”

“We can shag under the Christmas tree with the wireless playing in the background,” she said, pretending she hadn't heard him. “It’ll be fun.”

“I am not shagging on the cold floor to the tune of Good King Wenceslas,” he said with a distasteful grimace.

She started giggling. It got funnier the more she tried to stop. “How about Frosty the Snowman?”

He shook his head at her contagious levity, trying to keep his controlled countenance. “Fucking to Frosty,” he muttered. “Sounds like a top forty hit.”

She suddenly stopped giggling and sat up straighter. Her parents were exiting the office. Snape kept his arm around her, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder to calm her. When her parents had gotten about a half a block away, he took her hand and they followed them just as they had the day before.

The Grangers visited a different restaurant that night, and he couldn’t get Hermione quite as close; but they had a decent view of the couple from their table in the corner. 

When they followed them to their car, Hermione pulled him faster, trying to gain on them. Severus knew this was her last chance to see her parents before returning home the next morning. They walked about a broom's length behind the Wilkins like a hovering honor guard. He could see that she wanted to do or say something—hug them, get some sort of acknowledgment—but she just stood there like statue, a tight expression scrunching her face. The Wilkins got into their car none the wiser. Severus squeezed her hand, reminding her to act normal but also making sure she knew he was still there. She looked so alone.

Hermione crushed Snape's fingers with hers, binding herself to him to keep from running after her parents. _Please turn around. Just look at me before you go._ The red brake lights blinked as her father pulled the car into the road. 

Her heart felt disconnected, a child's balloon bobbing in a hurricane. Snape held her to the earth by a threadbare string. If he let go of her now, the sky would swallow her up. Hermione followed the car’s progress until the retreating red lights were nothing more than a memory. Just like that, they were gone. Again. _Come back. Please._

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and Severus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “It's all right.”

Hermione buried her face in his chest, still seeing the crimson glow of the taillights on the insides of her eyelids.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s take a walk.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus sat with her on the bed. She was in his lap, curled into his chest, crying softly. The brass headboard was digging into his spine, but he ignored it, choosing to focus on stroking her back instead. They’d walked all the way to the beach and then, when it got dark, returned to Castle Hill. 

She hadn't made a peep since her parents’ departure. Nods and head shakes were the extent of her replies. He hadn’t even known she’d been crying until they’d gotten up to the room and he saw the wet tracks streaking her face. He’d been sitting with her ever since, waiting for the shaky sobs to subside

After an hour, she gradually stilled, and Severus brushed her hair back from her face so he could clean her up with his wand. When he cleared her nasal passages the sniffling stopped and she sighed deeply. 

“Thank you.”

“For what, pet?”

“Letting me cry on you.”

He stroked her head. “Are you ready to go to bed?”

“Will you kiss me first?”

A small smile twitched at his lips. “As much as you like.” Hugging her close, he placed a chaste kiss on her salty lips.

“Was that it?” Hermione asked, giving him a confused look.

“Are you up for more?”

Hermione nodded and pulled him closer. “Don’t let go of me.”

His heart jolted. _Never_. He knew what she meant, but his internal organs romanticized the interpretation until he was almost gagging on the sweetness in his gut. Why was his viscera so over-reactive? _Settle down. She just doesn't want to be alone. Give her what she needs._

Snape ran his nose over her cheek and pecked her neck. "I'm not letting go, but I need you to tell me what kind of kiss you want. I don't want to push you after the day you've had."

Hermione closed her eyes as his breath breezed over her throat and made her skin prickle with excitement. "Do it the way you always do it. I won't be sad if you're kissing me."

 _The way I always do it?_ He'd kissed her about a thousand different ways since that first night on her couch. Slow and easy. Passionate and rough. Tongue. Lips. Teeth. There were so many variables. Turning her face to his, he looked in her eyes. He could read her thoughts if he had to, but perhaps mental invasion wasn't necessary. Softly pressing his mouth to hers, he closed his eyes. He caught her lower lip and sucked it gently. She sighed. It was a sound of relief. That was a good sign. He read her responses and translated them into his own fluent language. He hoped his kiss said more than he ever could. Although he engaged in playful banter with her, he didn't really like talking—or more specifically talking about his feelings.

Just the thought of revealing his burgeoning attachment to her made him queasy. Words could be dangerous. And unnecessary. Did he not spell out his desire for her with every hard-on? Wasn't every hug a silent "I care about you"? Did his continued presence not scream "I want to be with you"? Well, now he was speaking in tongues. Hopefully she would get the message. _Don't cry anymore, love. I'll take care of you._ The nobler side of him that wanted to protect and care for another person had no other outlet. She was his safe zone. Others would laugh in his face if they found out that the hated Potions master harbored any nurturing tendencies, but she accepted his softer side without a whit of mockery. It wasn't just the freedom that afforded him, it was a matter of sanity. And perhaps salvation.

Hermione slid her arm around his neck so she wouldn't slide off his lap. He was melting her like butter in the broiler. Her brain was drugged by the sweet waltz of his tongue. His breath was hot on her cheek. Every exhale was a whisper, tickling her with his ragged respiration. They were both breathing hard, struggling to get more oxygen in the close confines of the other’s face.

Severus was losing his mind one whimper at a time. If she made that sound again, he couldn't be held responsible for the reaction in his trousers. He told his dick to stay calm, but it refused to listen. It knew those lips too well to just pass by without popping up to say hello. _Dammit! Stay down. She's going to think you're only after one thing._ He focused on the warmth of her against him, the feel of her dress in his hands, the sweetness of her breath in his mouth. His dick still insisted on butting in. It knew what was under that dress and which spots were even warmer.

"Let's lay you down," he muttered against her lips. Maybe if her pussy wasn't perched atop his prick like a prurient parakeet, he could rein in his lower half.

Hermione kept her lips on his as he scooped her off his lap and set her to the side. They sank down until they were horizontal, her head resting on his arm. He adjusted one of the pillows to prop up his head, and she slung a leg over his hip to pull him closer.

 _Blast!_ That was even more suggestive. And she was going to feel his erection now that her dress was all rucked up around her waist. "Wait, Hermione," he mumbled, pulling back. "I need to say something.” _And calm down._

Hermione stroked his cheek. “What is it?”

He took a slow breath. How could he want to say something so much but dread it with every fiber of his being? “You know what you said yesterday about me taking care of you?”

She nodded.

“I’m not sure if I know how. No one’s ever asked it of me before. Hugging you isn’t any kind of strain, but besides reassuring you, I have no idea how to take care of someone.”

She smiled. “You’re already doing it.”

“Sometimes I feel as if I’m . . .” He sighed, searching for the right words. “As if I’m an actor in my own life. There’s something surreal about it.”

Hermione nodded slowly. “I feel that way sometimes too—when I'm scared. I keep going, but . . . I'm faking it.”

So it wasn't just him. “You never have to pretend with me. I can accept anything you're feeling.”

She smiled. “I've never faked anything with you.”

“And I wouldn't want you to.”

“What about you? Am I forcing you to be someone you're not?”

“No. Not at all. It's a role I want to play, it's just . . .”

“Unfamiliar?”

“Yes. But at the same time it’s . . .”

“Like a memory you forgot you had.”

He stared at her. _Yes_.

“But then something reminds you that it's been inside you all along.”

Bloody hell, she did understand. “Yes.”

Hermione nodded. “That’s how I feel with you.”

His molars locked themselves in his tongue until the tightness in his throat faded. “I want to give you everything you need,” he whispered. “Just say the word. I want you to have something good to remember about this trip. Tell me what I can give you.”

Her chest buzzed with a purring warmth, her heart cuddling closer to him. Hermione didn't want to cry anymore. She knew what she needed. And apparently his dick knew too; it hadn’t flagged once during their conversation. Tightening her leg so her pussy was pressed to his bulging fly, she touched her lips to his. "I want you inside me—as close as possible. Your cock calms me down.”

 _Merlin's bloody balls._ Was she trying to burst his zipper? Her steamy suggestion made his brain sweat. "Are you sure? You're not too sad?"

She shook her head and brushed her nose over his. "I need you, Severus. I need to know that there's still something beautiful in my life . . . something to balance all the sadness."

He stared into her honey brown eyes. No one else had ever broken his heart with a request for sex. "I may not be pretty, but I can make you feel something beautiful."

Hermione smiled and ran her hand over his chest. "You are the sexiest wizard I know."

He didn't refute her statement, but inside he was wondering how long those rose-colored glasses would skew her perception in his favor. "We'd better get you out of that pretty dress so it doesn't get ruined. Sit up for me."

Hermione reluctantly rose, leaving the warmth of his embrace. He unzipped her dress then pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the dresser. Her bra popped open, springing her breasts free. She felt his hand, but she wondered if he'd used magic. Even she couldn't get it off that easily. His fingers traced over the indentations left by the band, and a shiver slithered up her spine. Her skin felt over-sensitive. She needed to be pressed up against him—naked—the heat of his soul roasting her, his dick piercing her pussy like a spit while she was consumed by the flames of his possession.

Severus kissed her face as she tore at his clothes. She had his white button-up buttoned down in record time. She didn't even wait for him to shrug off it off before running her hands all over his chest and back. He managed to shuck his trousers and boxers as she rolled against him like a gathering storm. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end. He needed to ground himself in her body.

Hermione grunted as he rolled her onto her back and began to snog away her rational mind. He was finally naked and pressed so tightly to her she could feel him from her head to her toes. His thigh slid between hers, and she ground her pussy against it to work off some steam.

Snape's length was trapped against her hip, leaving a trail of lust all over her soft skin. He wanted to take his time with her. Beauty needed a slow buildup. He let her grind against his leg as he took her mouth. She tasted of warmth and light. It was like kissing summertime. He basked in her glow. 

Hermione couldn't control her hips; they were humping him like a naughty puppy. She told them to behave, but her pussy would have none of that. It was already salivating for his cock, hungry to eat him up and suck on his bone.

The longer he left her to writhe, the sloppier her cunny’s kisses became. It started out with her lips just leaking a little juice, but now her pubic hair was drenched too; the dewy line followed her slit like a riverbed. It had overflowed all over his leg, plastering the black hairs against his skin, a pomade of pussy serum.

Severus waited until his thigh was smeared with her arousal before he approached her mound. One hand slid down her body, and he lifted his hips to cup her muff. _Sweet Circe._ A single finger swiped through her glossy folds, and she groaned out a cry of desperation. "Just relax, pet. I need a fresh taste of you before I go inside."

Hermione smiled as he tongued her breasts, lapping over her nipples like silk. She sank her fingers into his hair and sighed as he sucked her into the muggy heat of his mouth. She really needed him to shag her, but who could say no to that tongue? And those teeth . . . fuck! As if she wasn't wet enough already.

Hermione felt the pull travel all the way to her clit like a live wire. Her nails scraped over his scalp. She needed something to hold onto, but he was getting further away. _Come back._ He kissed a soft path down her belly, which only made her stomach clench to stone; she was going to need a geologist to chisel out her organs when they were done.

Severus continued his trail of kisses through her soft fur and then into the fragrant heat of her garden. The plush bulb of her clitoris was already blooming and awaiting his pruning. He lapped it in greeting, watering it with worship. She squirmed and bucked, but he never lost contact. 

"Please, Severus. I really need you to fuck me now."

He looked up her body, watching her between the twin peaks of her breasts. She lifted her head and met his eyes, and he saw the loneliness hiding behind her hungry gaze. Giving her pussy one last kiss, he climbed up and pressed his heart to hers. Her arms wrapped around him, and Severus nuzzled her cheek as he wiggled into her wetlands. He slipped one arm behind her neck to cradle her head and keep her close. It took some hip shifting to get things connected without the aid of his hands, but she spread her legs wider to open the gates. He waited right at the starting line, making sure they were both comfortable before he got going. He needed to stay in the saddle for a while. Fucking away pain took time.

He kept his eyes on hers as he slowly eased inside. The brown of her irises darkened, and a needy purr hummed from her throat. When he bottomed out, she exhaled all the air in her lungs as if she'd been holding her breath. The tension left her face, and he paused to savor the moment. "Is that what you needed, pet?"

She nodded, never breaking eye contact. "I wish you were inside me all the time."

He smiled softly and kissed her cheek. "That _would_ make teaching more pleasant."

Her hips started to move on their own accord, and she sighed out a quiet moan as the thick weight of his cock nudged her depths.

Severus pressed his lips to hers and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he began to rock inside her. He wanted to taste that next moan. She stopped her anxious writhing and locked her legs around him, pulling him even closer. Her hands clasped his back, and her nails pinched into his flesh. She must have thought she was hurting him, because she suddenly smoothed her palms over the dents as if she were rubbing salve on his wounds. The constant stroking calmed him. His mind began to drift.

Hermione's stomach finally stopped aching, and she closed her eyes to shut out the rest of the world. He was the only thing she needed now: the heavy heat of his body, the slow swipe of his tongue, the hard girth of his cock stretching her like a heavenly shaft of light. As long as he kept her filled to the brim, nothing bad could fit inside her. Her worry about her parents faded away. The pain of the past perished with every prod of his rod. Her guilt was silenced, drowned out by his soft growls.

Snape’s logic had been switched off for the night. He was running on intuition now. The primal magic of her twitching sheath opened his consciousness to new horizons. Everything made sense when he was inside her. He pulled his lips from hers so they could both catch their breath, but he was immediately winded by the expression on her face. No one had ever looked at him like that—as if she wanted every ounce of him, bitter and sweet. Why was she so accepting of him? Why didn't she see his faults? How could she be so blind?

"I'm getting close, Severus. Please go faster."

He didn't speed up. She would come soon, and he wanted it to be spectacular.

Hermione gave up trying to spur him faster with her feet. He wasn't budging from his set pace. She held onto his gaze to keep herself centered. "Don't close your eyes," she whispered, running one hand down his face.

His heart thudded like a steel hammer, sparks flying in his ventricles.

She needed his stare to invade her just as much as his penetrating sex. "You are the only person who sees me as I am . . . and you still want me."

If his hips hadn't been on auto-pilot, he would have stopped in his tracks. She'd answered his unasked questions while at the same time revealing his own sentiments. She'd just identified a major reason behind his own attraction to her. He just hadn't totally realized it until she said it. "I do want you. Every inch of you."

Hermione searched his dark eyes. How could so much fire burn in black ice? What was hiding in those dark depths? "I want all of you too."

"Are you sure about that? That's a lot of baggage for one little witch."

She smiled. "I'll just shrink it down and fit it in my pocket."

He returned her smile. "Thank you, pet. That's that nicest offer I've ever received."

"I don't mind. I like it when you smile like that. It makes me happy to see you happy."

"I am, pet. Never more so." He hissed as her muscles rippled around his shaft. "I know you're getting close. Do I need to talk you over?"

Hermione nodded. She couldn't climax unless she was totally focused. His words were the blinders she needed to stay on track. "Yes, please."

Smiling, he gave her one last peck. "I'm going to take such good care of you tonight. I’m going to fuck you till you fall asleep in my arms. This little pussy is going to be so sleepy when I'm done with it. Keep those eyes on me. I want to see that face you make when it hits you. You are so fucking beautiful when you come.”

“Please make it dirty or I’m gonna cry,” she whispered.

“Oh, pet,” he murmured, kissing her again. “No more crying tonight.” It took him a second to switch from sweet to perverted. _Okay_. ”Do you hear that? That’s the sound of your pussy begging me to fuck you all night long. Is all that juice dripping down between your cheeks yet? It will be once you come. So wet,” he sighed. “Nice and ready for my fingers. What do you think, should we try three? Two made you come awfully fast last time. I think you've been having some very naughty dreams about filling up that bottom. Am I right?"

“Yes, sir.”

He grinned into her hair. _Sir?_ So that was what she wanted to hear. “I know what you’ve been thinking about, pet. You want to be my dirty little schoolgirl, don’t you? You want me hard under my teaching robes, keeping you after class for our special detentions. You can’t wait for me to tell you to lift your skirt and grab your ankles so the cane can kiss your backside. I can give you all of that, pet. I can pull down your sticky little knickers and show the class how much you love being my good girl.” Her canal streamed around him, her muscles taut with tension. It was time to put the final nail in the coffin. “Come for me, Hermione. Come for me right now, or I’m going to paddle that pussy until you scream. Do you understand me, young lady?”  

Her eyes rolled back, and she shouted out a hoarse note of gratitude as she came.

Severus grinned as her pussy clenched around him. He meant every word of that. Tonight was about making sure she was taken care of. He would do whatever it took to make her feel safe, and that meant proving to her that he wanted every side of her, every facet and fantasy. Even the parts she was too embarrassed to admit yet. He would give her all of it, every heart-rending hug and every bum-tingling smack. She didn't need to hide anything from him. 

"That's it," he purred, kissing her cheek as she came back down. "Let me take care of this sweet little pussy."

Hermione smiled and ran her thumb over his lower lip. "It's all yours."  
  
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" _Unnnnnnnhhhh!"_

Bartholomew looked up at the ceiling. "Crickey. Are they still at it?"

Gretchen snickered and checked the clock. "I've got to hand it to her, she picked a man with staying power."

"I hope his staying power isn't just limited to the bedroom. Think he'll be coming back with her in June?"

Gretchen shrugged. "Never can tell."

"If he does, I'm putting up permanent sound-dampening spells."

"I like it," Gretchen with a small smile. "It reminds me of our honeymoon."

Bart chuckled. "My stamina _was_ legendary back then, wasn't it?"

"It wasn't your stamina that kept me coming back for more."

"No?"

"I just liked the way you were constantly pawing at me."

He slid his hand under the sheet to stroke her thigh. "I couldn't keep my hands off you. Still can't."

"You haven't pawed me in ages."

Bart grinned. "Then I'd better make up for lost time."  
  
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"Have you packed everything?" Severus asked, pulling on a black blazer. He didn't want to be freezing when they got back, but he didn’t want to be coated in sweat by the time they Apparated either.

"MmHm." Hermione twisted the sides of her hair into a barrette and clipped it closed.

Severus set his bag next to hers on the bed. "Are you sure you don't want to go see them one more time? I don't mind."

She shook her head. "I can't say goodbye again. It's too hard."

He nodded and pulled her close. "All right. Are we having lunch here?" They'd slept through breakfast.

"Sure. I'd like to see Gretchen and her husband."

They went downstairs, and Severus met Bartholomew. He was a burly fellow who looked as if he lived outdoors, his skin tan and leathery. Gretchen made them a meal fit for a king, and Snape got caught up on the local gossip. He didn't know anyone they were talking about, but he liked how friendly the couple was to Hermione. There was a parental vibe from them, which he suspected she needed more than the tiny room upstairs.

When it was time to go, Hermione hugged Gretchen and Bart goodbye. “I guess I’ll see you two in June.”

Gretchen squeezed her again. “Just send us an owl when you decide on a date. We love having you.”

Severus shook Bart’s hand. “It was nice meeting you. And,” he added quietly so Hermione wouldn't hear, “thank you for taking care of her all these years,”

Bart smiled. “No worries. You look after her when you get home.”

Severus nodded. _I’m trying._

He shook hands with Gretchen too; she seemed tickled by something about him, but he couldn’t imagine what. That was the same smile Minerva had when she asked about his weekends; they seemed to know something about him that he had yet to discover.

Snape and Hermione said their last goodbyes and stepped out into the bright sunshine. The grey cat who had greeted their arrival was there to wish them farewell. They stepped over him, and he meowed at Hermione as if reminding her to have a safe trip.

They made their way back through the the busy streets, ducking into the protective cover of the woods at the edge of Castle Hill. It was a lovely afternoon, and Severus took a deep breath, getting one last hit of warm air. It was bound to be wet and miserable back home.

He checked his watch. It would be about six o'clock in the morning when they got to London. There was plenty he could get done before lunch happened again. Hermione had become too quiet, and he studied her from the corner of his eye as they followed the trail back to the Apparition point. "Are you all right?"

Hermione looked up and him and nodded. "I always feel as though I'm leaving them behind."

He took her hand. "I think you've done a better job than you realize."

It was kind of him to say so. But that didn't change the way she felt. They arrived at the clearing, and she wrapped her arm around his waist. "Do you want to do it, or do you want me to?"

He pulled her into his chest. "I'll do it. Hold on tight."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, hiding her face. She couldn’t bear to see Australia vanish. Her parents were vanishing with it, and she felt the bond between them dissolving a little more with each departure. 

The pressurization of Apparition cinched them into nothingness, and there was that moment of feeling as though she would never again take another breath; then they were popping into place down the road from her flat, and she gasped in a quiet inhale of relief as her lungs expanded. She looked around at the familiar alleyway and then up at Snape. There was hardly any light, and if she hadn't been holding onto him, she would have lost him in the dark.

He kept his arm around her as they made their way to her flat. It was bitterly cold. She'd put on a jumper before they left, but she wished she'd added her cloak. By the time they made it to her front door, she wanted to drown herself in hot cocoa and curl up in a steaming bath. 

She unlocked the door, and he set down his bag next to the sofa. _Good. He's staying_. Hermione set her bag next to his. "Crookshanks, I'm home."

Severus took off his blazer while she brushed the flurries from her jumper and headed for the kitchen.

"Crookshanks," she called, spotting him sprawled out in his favorite square on the kitchen floor, where the sun hit first in the morning. "Did you miss me? I brought you some Australian cat treats. Gretchen says they shouldn't be too hard on your teeth." He didn't seem to care, not even lifting his head at the sound of her voice. "Crookshanks?" Hermione flipped on the kitchen light and stared at his still, orange body.

Severus heard her whisper "Crookshanks?" one last time, and knew from the change in her voice that something was wrong. In three long strides, he was at the kitchen door, arriving just in time to see her run for the sink and vomit up brunch. He looked at the motionless orange ball of fur on the floor, understanding instantly what had happened. Kneeling down, he touched one bottlebrush leg, just to be sure. Crooks was as cold as the linoleum. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

It felt as though her stomach was turning inside out, her entire body flexing to expel the sick sorrow. She crossed her legs to avoid wetting herself with the next heave. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax so the spasms in her belly didn't tear her apart. He touched her tensed back, lending her a soothing hand. Hermione closed her eyes and focused on the light stroking of his fingers. It took a few minutes, but her body finally gave up and unclenched.

Snape waited until she was breathing normally then quietly asked, "Do you have something we can put him in? A box perhaps?"

"There's a big empty box on my closet shelf," she whispered. Maybe if she didn't talk too loud it wouldn't be real.

Severus went to get it. He'd expected to find a cardboard box. Instead, he found a lightweight circular wooden box with a painting of a cat on it. It was the only box he could see. Taking it back to the kitchen, he held it up. "This one?"

She looked over and nodded. "I got it at a charity auction. I kept finding Crooks asleep in it."

 _Well he's going to be sleeping in it forever now._ "Are you sure you want me to use it?"

She nodded.

Severus put his hand on her shoulder. "I'll take care of it."

"I can't look at him."

That was probably for the best. Kneeling down, Snape peeled her pet off the floor and curled his body into her kitty box. His own lunch wasn't feeling too settled at the moment. As head of Slytherin, he'd been witness to many a dead pet. Mice, rats, and toads he had no problems with. Anything bigger made him cringe. _Happy Christmas, Hermione. I bet this is one holiday you’ll never forget._ He couldn't leave her now. This would break her heart. One witch could only withstand so much emotional trauma in twenty-four hours. Putting the lid on the box, he took it to the front room so she wouldn't have to see it. "Okay. You can look now."

Hermione glanced back at the spot where Crooks had been. She'd never find him there again. That was _his_ spot. She could still see an after burn of his image on the linoleum.

Snape pulled her into his arms. "What would you like to do? We could have him buried."

Hermione started to silently cry into his shirt. She didn't want to think about putting Crooks in the ground. Snape hugged her tighter and stroked her head. Something in her snapped, and she couldn't stop bawling. "He was all alone. I just left him here by himself."

Doing his best to calm her, Severus shook his head. "I don't think he suffered. His food bowl is still full. I think he waited for you to leave then came in here and went to sleep. He looked peaceful."

"I shouldn't have left him alone. I . . . I c-could have been here for him," she sobbed.

Severus kissed the top of her head. Her choked tears ripped through his heart. "Maybe he was waiting to be alone. Maybe he didn't want you to see him like that."

That actually did sound like something Crookshanks might do. Hermione clung to Snape's shirt, feeling completely out of control. Her world was falling apart. Everything she loved was slowly disappearing: her friends, her parents, her only companion.

"I have an idea," he whispered so quietly she had to calm further to hear him. "Let's take him to Hogwarts. I know Hagrid has buried several pets near his garden. I'm sure he wouldn't mind having Crookshanks. We can give him a proper send off with flowers and a nice stone marker. How does that sound?"

She nodded. "Are you going to be there?"

"Of course I'll be there. Why wouldn't I be there?"

"Everyone will see us together."

"They might. But I think Hagrid would keep our secret if we asked him to."

Hermione thought Hagrid would probably spill that secret if someone got enough alcohol in him, but she wasn't about to turn down Snape's offer. Crooks would be happy at Hogwarts. "Okay."

"If you pack some clothes, you could stay in my rooms for the rest of the holidays."

"Do you really want me to?"

He tipped up her face to look at him. "Yes, I do. I wouldn't offer if I didn't mean it."

"I can spend all Christmas with you?"

He smiled softly. "All Christmas."

She sniffled and nodded. "I'll go get some things."

"I'll wait in the other room. Take your time." He kissed her forehead and reluctantly released her. 

She looked shaky and tired as she padded down the hall, and he kept one ear trained on her progress in case she started crying again. Snape glanced over her family photos while he waited, comparing the Grangers of the past with their current counterparts. Their carefree happiness was horrifying when you knew the fate that had yet to befall them. The girl in the felt reindeer antlers smiling at the camera had been lost somewhere along the way. He needed to do more to help her. Spanking and sex weren't enough. He wanted to see her smiling like that again.

He didn’t know if he had enough hugs to heal her heart. Maybe she needed more than that.

Maybe he did too.


	11. With Love, From Me to You

Hogwarts looked just as Hermione remembered it. It was a time capsule of memories, good and bad. Its halls remained steadfast. The constancy was a balm to her soul. Why couldn’t the world provide more bastions of predictability like this? She needed a refuge from the uncertainty of life.  

Snape’s quarters were a dark den of quietude. She hadn’t known what to expect . . . maybe a serpent-studded motif draped in black damask, or an extension of his office—jars and bottles lining the walls with oozing ingredients and preserved remains floating in florescent fluid. But it wasn't either of those. _Slytherin Potions master_ seemed to be a persona he threw off when the day was done. His room was tastefully decorated with a mishmash of antique furniture. The walls were lined not with phials but books. The battered spines were beautiful. She wanted to stroke each one. Perhaps later he would let her drown her sorrows in his library.

Leaving their bags on his bed, Snape gave her a questioning look. “Are you ready? Hagrid rises with the sun. I’m sure he’s up already.”

Hermione nodded. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at the box under Snape’s arm. How was she supposed to say goodbye? Crooks knew her better than most people, and now her list of reliable confidants was dwindling. Who would she tell about her day? Who would sit with her when she was sad and lonely?

Snape put his arm around her. They took the side exit nearest the dungeons, and he led her across the frozen grounds. The icy grass crackled beneath their boots like bones. Snow fell softly over the scene, leaving everything in a dusting of powder. The rising sun cast a pink hue over the snow, and Severus could see Hagrid’s hut in the distance looking like a weathered fairy cake, the roof frosted in confectioner’s sugar. Smoke puffed from the chimney, a sure sign that the groundskeeper was indeed awake.

Severus watched Hermione from the corner of his eye. She was a figure of mourning, her countenance somber and downcast. The sorrow pulled her shoulders to the ground as if her cloak were made of lead. Her eyes avoided the cat box at all costs; she barely even looked in his direction. Snape wanted to help her accept this and move on, but he didn’t see how that was going to happen when she couldn’t even look at the casket under his arm.

Hermione felt ridiculous for being so queasy about her own dead cat, but she couldn’t stand to think of Crooks's stiff body stuffed in that box. Crookshanks was supposed to be warm and furry, not cold and limp. This was all wrong. Someone had made a mistake. She kept waiting to hear him scratching at the box, meowing to be let out. She heard nothing but the whistle of the heartless wind.

Snape took the lead and knocked on Hagrid’s rough-hewn door. The clanking sounds of cookery ceased, and seconds later the door cracked open.

Hagrid blinked in surprise and opened the door wider. “Perfesser! What brings you out so early in the mornin?”

Snape nodded in greeting. “We’d like to ask a favor of you.”

“We?” Hagrid peered around the professor. “Hermione! Aren’t you a sight fer sore eyes? What’re you doin here? Come in, come in. You two’ll freeze yer wands off out there.”

Hermione followed Snape inside, smiling as the cozy glow warmed her heart. This was just the same too. Hagrid wrapped her in a hug, and her eyes went wide as he lifted her off the ground.

“Look at you, Hermione,” Hagrid said, beaming at her. “Haven't seen you since Harry's wedding.”

Hagrid must have spent a past life as a teddy bear. Hugging his massive frame was sublimely comforting. “I’ve missed you too.” A wet nose nuzzled her hand, and she looked down to find an excited boar hound sniffing her jeans. “Who’s this?”

“Fang the second. Looks just like the first, don’ he?”

Hermione smiled down at the dancing dog. “How old is he?”

“Jus’ two. Still a baby. Fang, leave her be. She’ll pet yeh when y'calm down.”

Fang moved on the professor, snuffling at his boots and then zeroing in on the box under his arm.

Snape silently snarled, and the dog backed away with a whimper of apology, using Hagrid as a shield. Setting the balsam box on the table, Severus pulled off his cloak and draped it over the chair. It was hot as Hades in that little hut. Two layers was plenty.

"What was it you wanted ter ask, Perfesser? Must be important for you t'come all the way down here at the crack of dawn."

Severus helped Hermione off with her cloak and pulled out the chair for her. He saw her glance warily at the box, so he put it in one of the other chairs where she wouldn’t have to see it. "Hermione's cat died. I told her you might be willing to lay him to rest here in your garden."

Hagrid was momentarily dumbfounded by their intimate interaction. Quickly regaining his composure, he realized what Snape had just said. "Course I will. We'll give him a right proper funeral. How old was he, Hermione?"

"I'm not totally sure," she said quietly, staring at her hands. "He wasn’t young when I got him. But I've had him for about thirteen years."

Hagrid gaped, staring down at the cat box. "Is this Crookshanks?"

She nodded. 

"I can't believe he lasted this long," Hagrid muttered. "I knew that cat was part Kneazle. He used ter come over at night t'see Fang. They'd go out wanderin' until Fang got scared and came runnin' back with his tail between his legs."

Hermione smiled. "I always wondered where he went when he wasn't with me. I figured he was hunting mice in the castle."

"Aye." Hagrid nodded. “He was. He was huntin' 'em in my garden too. I'd find him out there hidin' in the pumpkin patch, waitin' to pounce. Looked like a great furry pumpkin himself."

Snape was relieved to see her smiling again. 

"Why don't we go out and find a good rock ter use as a headstone? We can give him the spot right next ter Fang. They can keep each other comp'ny."

Hermione's eyes started to water. She could only nod. That sounded perfect. She didn't want Crooks to be all by himself.

"I'll get my cloak," Hagrid said with a final nod.  
  
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Hagrid couldn’t help noticing the way Snape kept touching Hermione. It was just some innocent brushes of his fingers, a steadying hand to her back; but it was enough to arouse suspicion. They were too comfortable with each other to appear casual. Finding a large rock in the underbrush, Hagrid held it up. “How bout this one?”

Hermione ran her fingers over the flat surface. "It's perfect."

Snape took out his wand. "I'll engrave it. Why don’t you two find some flowers."

"I've got some," Hagrid said, glad to be of help. "Neville and Pomona brought them from the greenhouse yesterday."

Hagrid and Hermione left Snape to his stonecutting. When they were back in the hut, Hagrid plucked a bunch of flowers from a watering can in the corner. "You arrange 'em, Hermione. You know what looks nice."

Hermione took the flowers to the table and carefully bundled them into a colorful spray of blooms.  

"Not that it's any of my business," Hagrid said lightly, "but why is Snape so concerned about yer cat?"

Hermione blushed and kept her eyes on the flowers. "He's just trying to help me feel better."

"Perfesser Snape?" The Potions master wasn't known for making anyone feel better. More the opposite.

"Could you please not say anything about this to anyone?" Hermione asked, looking up at him. "I don't know if we're ready for the world to know about us yet."

"Know what?"

"That's just it, I have no idea how to answer that. We're sort of seeing each other."

"Sort of?"

"It's complicated. But I'm having a nice time with him, and I don't want to mess that up."

He guessed complicated was putting it mildly. "No one will hear a word from me."

"Thanks, Hagrid. How does this look?"

"Looks lovely. Let me get you some twine t'tie it together."  
  
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Snape stood by Hermione’s side as Hagrid carefully laid the box in the hole he'd dug next to Fang's grave. The wind had picked up, and the glittering snowflakes were falling faster. The beauty of the snow was tarnished by the grief radiating from her huddled figure. This was no white Christmas for her; it was a snowstorm of sadness. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and let her cry out all the hurt, but they needed to maintain some modicum of propriety. When they got back to his room, he’d let loose the floods of affection and drown her in as much sweetness as she could stomach.

Hagrid brushed the dirt from his hands and stood up. “Did you want ter say anything, Hermione?”

She took a deep breath. As soon as she tried to speak, her voice caught, and she felt the tears rush the backs of her eyes. A choked gasp was the only sound that escaped.

"I'll say somethin'," Hagrid said, reading her expression. "We're all here t’say goodbye ter Crookshanks. He lived a long and happy life, full of mice and catnip. Friend to all animals, he was the kind of cat that comes around only once. Ye'll be greatly missed, Crookshanks. Why don't we each tell our fav'rit Crookshanks memory. I think he'd like that."

Severus had the urge to shove the half-giant into the lake. He wanted to help Hermione move on, not linger in the past.

"I'll start," Hagrid volunteered. "When you was in school, Hermione, I come home one night ter find Crookshanks and Fang asleep by the fire. Fang was hidin under a blanket in the corner, an' Crookshanks was sprawled out in front of him, keepin guard. Knew they was best mates after that. Never met a braver cat. I saw him use the Whomping Willow as a scratching post once."

Hermione’s tears wobbled to a smile. Crooks _was_ brave. And a good friend. It was nice to hear someone else confirm her feelings. If she hadn’t had him all these years, the loneliness would have been unbearable. He comforted her when she was crying and courageously acted as guard cat of the flat. He always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.

"I'll go next," Severus said softly, seeing her loosen up a little. "I only recently got to know Crookshanks, so I don’t really have a favorite memory; but I was impressed by his powers of perception. The scrutiny in that orange gaze could bring a man to his knees. I'm honored I got to know you, Crookshanks. And I'm grateful you were always there for Hermione. You were loyal as well as brave."

He'd never had a memorial for a cat, and he felt absolutely ridiculous. He'd have to tell Hagrid to keep this whole production to himself. He couldn't have people thinking he went around doing this sort of thing on a regular basis.

Hermione gave him a watery smile. "Crooks really liked you. I wish you could have known him better."

Severus had a feeling Crookshanks knew him better than most people. That cat had looked inside his soul. He’d never felt so transparent in his entire life. It was unclear what Crooks had been looking for in his eyes; but he must have been judged favorably. There had never been any hissing or clawing to suggest displeasure.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Hermione managed to make herself speak. "My favorite memory of Crookshanks is right after the final battle. I went back home to check on my parents' house, and he was there sitting on the front mat . . . as if he were waiting for me. Mrs. Figg had been watching him for me while we were on the run; but somehow he was there that day. Seeing him . . . was . . .” She broke down into tears, unable to go on.

Severus put his arm around her shoulders, avoiding Hagrid's curious gaze as he pulled her close. She turned her wet face to him and rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"And that's the kind of friend he was," Hagrid said, sounding just as choked up as Hermione. "He was a king among cats. Goodbye, Crookshanks. I hope where ever yeh've gone, you know how much you were loved here." 

Hagrid knelt down and gently pushed the dirt over the hole, filling it in with a few swipes of his shovel-sized hands. "Got the headstone ready, Perfesser?”

Snape levitated the rock over to Hagrid’s mound of dirt, and the groundskeeper patted down the earth and adjusted the stone.

"Crookshanks," Hagrid said, reading the inscription. “Devoted Friend and Companion. That's right nice. Did you want ter put the flowers on, Hermione?"

She nodded through her tears, kneeling down on the cold ground with him and laying the bouquet atop the grave. The wind batted the blossoms around like tissue paper. Hermione cast a protective shield around the grave so the stiff winds wouldn't tear Crooks's flowers to shreds. "Goodbye, Crookshanks," she whispered. "I'll miss you so much." Her head was screaming, _"How could you leave me like this?"_ but that sounded too selfish to utter out loud. This wasn't about her. 

"You can come here anytime you want, Hermione."

"Thanks, Hagrid.” She sniffled. “And thanks for letting him stay here."

"I'm honored," Hagrid said, wiping his eyes. "And don' worry, you won' always feel so bad. It don' hurt forever."

Hermione wrapped him in a tight hug, burying her face in his itchy jumper. 

"Are you ready to go back to the castle?" Snape asked softly. "We can stay here as long as you like, but the snow's getting heavier."

Hermione nodded and let go of Hagrid. “I don’t want to leave him, but maybe we should go. I can't feel my fingers anymore."

Hagrid smiled down at her and whispered, "Crookshanks is in yer heart, not out here in the ground. You can find him wherever y'go."

The tears were freezing to her face, icing her lashes, but she couldn't stop them from falling. Crooks _was_ in her heart; she could feel him stretching out in there, circling around, making himself comfortable. It made her breastbone buzz with soft warmth. She didn't know her heart could be bursting with love but still ache so fiercely. Kissing her fingers, she bent down and touched the cold stone. “See you later."

"It would be better if you didn't tell anyone about this,” Snape muttered to Hagrid while Hermione finished saying goodbye. “I don't think we're ready for Minerva or the inquisition that would surely follow."

Hagrid nodded. "Hermione's already asked me t'keep it mum."

"Thank you," Severus said, referring to both the confidentiality and the funeral service.

"Glad ter do it," he said, smiling at Hermione. "That's what friends'r for."

Snape slipped his arm around her shoulders as she rose. "Let's get you inside," he whispered. "You're shivering."

Hagrid watched the unlikely couple walk back to the castle. Snape had his arm around her the whole way, protecting her from the cold; Hagrid couldn’t remember seeing an odder sight in all his years at Hogwarts.  
  
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Severus took her back to his rooms. The fire had melted the chill while they were gone, and he set her cloak and scarf to dry on the hearth while he peeled her gloves from her numb fingers. She was still crying, so he took her to the love seat, which faced the fire. Sitting down next to her, he pulled her frozen hands into the warmth of his jacket and wrapped her in his arms. He wanted to hold her until time stopped. Whether she was happy or sad, he felt useful when she was around. He wasn’t an optimist by nature, but he knew how to recognize a blessing in disguise. He certainly didn’t want her to be sad, but the situation did lend itself to displays of affection. There was some good to be had in all this sorrow.

Smashing her face into his chest, Hermione finally let out what she'd been holding in all morning, bawling into his shirt as if she'd never stop. He hugged her close, and she curled deeper into him. His arms sheltered her from the world. If he hadn’t been with her, she would have been slumped in heap on the floor of her flat, defeated by death yet again. Instead, she was slumped in a heap on his chest, clinging to him like a life preserver. To the shortsighted there wouldn't seem to be much difference between those two choices, when in fact they were worlds apart. Here, he was just propping her up until she could walk on her own two feet again. At home, she would have been lame and defenseless as she lay on the floor like a wounded animal. This was infinitely better. She just needed him to be there—holding her until her heart knitted itself back together. His embrace was soul plaster. He’d keep her cuts covered until they had healed.

Mourning took a lot out of Hermione. Her entire body was heaving, the sorrow running from her eyes and nose like a river.

She cried until her body ran out of tears.

He never stopped stroking her back.  
  
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"Hermione?" Snape whispered.

There was no answer. She'd cried herself to sleep. It was only noon. He'd wake her up in a bit and get her to eat something. 

For now he'd let her sleep. Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he wished her sweet dreams.  
  
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"Do you usually eat in your rooms like this?" she asked, setting down her fork and wiping her mouth with the napkin.

"No. Only when I don't wish to be disturbed."

"This was really good. I'm so full."

He was glad she'd eaten so much. She'd lost most of her breakfast that morning. "I am too. What would you like to do while our food digests? Collapse into a motionless lump in front of the fire?"

She smiled. "That sounds lovely."

Severus breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her smile. So much had befallen her recently. He knew she just needed time to heal, but he didn’t want her to associate the holidays with pain and loss. The plan had been for her to use the time off as a chance to recover, but somehow her break had become more emotionally draining than her job. He had an idea that might lift her spirits, but he didn't know how she would react. Would it remind her how sad she was, or would it remind her how happy she could be? 

Rising from the tiny table, he held out his hand to her. She took it, and Snape led her over to the love seat. “Just give me a second. I think I have something you'll like."

Hermione was feeling a lot better than she had earlier. That nap had been more restorative than she could have ever imagined. Crookshanks had been in her dream, trotting beside her as she walked through the dungeons just as he had when he was younger. He seemed quite happy. When they got to Snape’s room, the door had been open, and they walked right in. Snape was asleep in the chair by the fire, and Crooks had hopped into his lap with the spring of a tiger. Curling into an orange ball, he got comfortable and began to purr. The sound rumbled around the room like thunder. Crooks blinked slowly, hypnotizing her with his yellow eyes; and her brain went all foggy and relaxed. With a secretive meow, he pawed Snape’s leg. Hermione thought it looked as though he was petting the Potions master. With one final yawn, Crooks closed his eyes and disappeared. She’d knelt down on the floor, searching everywhere for him; but he wasn’t in Snape’s quarters. Dream Snape had woken then, rubbing his eyes and yawning. _"Hermione? What are you doing here, dear?”_ Even in her dream she was flabbergasted he’d say such a thing. She’d woken up to find the real Snape stroking her face and whispering her name.

The calm happiness of the dream followed her into the waking world.

Although there was still an empty spot where Crookshanks used to be, she no longer felt he was really gone. That body they had buried wasn't the real Crooks. That was just a shell. The real Crookshanks was still alive in her memory and, as Hagrid had said, in her heart. She felt as though he’d simply gone out hunting and wasn’t back yet. He wasn't dead, he just wasn't physically there with her.

Soft music floated through the air, and Hermione turned around to see where the sound had come from. Snape had set an old wireless on the table behind the love seat, and its dated arches stared back at her like wide eyes. Twiddling the knobs, he stopped when he heard a familiar song. She couldn't help smiling. Celestina Warbeck sure knew how to sing about Christmas cauldrons. Snape waved his wand once, and all the lights went out except for the fire.

Severus dug through a drawer in the small chest next to the settee and found what he was looking for. Minerva gave him the same thing every year. He'd put them to good use now. Breaking open the envelope, he dumped the minuscule balls into his cupped palm. They looked like red and green candy, except there were a few gold ones mixed in that were more like ball bearings. He rubbed them briskly between his palms and tossed them into the air. The effect was nicer than he'd anticipated. Bright multi-colored lights floated around the room like freeform tree lights. It was festive. And slightly romantic. He didn't want her to think he was trying to take advantage of her in her sad state, but he did want to remind her what time of year it was. 

Hermione stared up at the glowing lights, grinning in delight. "What's going on?"

"I just wanted you to remember it's Christmas." 

"We should have brought my tree."

Snape took a small box from his valise and removed the lid. He set a tiny tree in the corner near the fire and aimed his wand at it. "You mean like this?"

Hermione laughed as his prepackaged tree swelled to full size. It was already decorated, and the ornaments twinkled in the glow of its warm lights. "Where did you get that?"

"Gretchen had them for sale near the bar. You didn't see them?"

"No. But this is perfect, Severus. Come sit with me."

He took his place next to her and slid his arm around her shoulders. The decorations were incongruent with the dark dungeon decor, but the room did look cheery.

"This is so pretty. I've never used Levitating Lights before. How long do they last?"

"The envelope said eight hours, but I have about twenty more envelopes. Minerva's always trying to make the dungeons more welcoming at Christmas.”

Hermione smiled and pulled her feet up next to her and curled into him. Her multiple layers of clothing weren't allowing much contact, but she felt close to him nonetheless. His hand went from her shoulder to her head, stroking her hair just the way she liked.

Severus sat there with her for a couple hours, listening to one song after another. Normally he would have been bored by such mindless lazing about, but in all that stillness he found a peace that he usually only felt after a marathon of fucking. She’d drawn his other hand into his lap and was tracing the backs of his fingers like a whisper. Her touch left his skin tingling. Turning over his hand, he let her repeat her tickle-y exploration on his palm.

When the Weird Sisters' version of Frosty the Snowman came over the wireless, Hermione started silently laughing. Thinking about Snape trying to fuck her to the tune was hilarious. She couldn't stop picturing him in that big bed behind them, snapping his hips into her on the beat.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's not happening," he muttered.

"I didn't say anything," she replied innocently.

He lifted his hand from her hair and ran one finger along her cheek. ”Are you feeling better?"

She nodded. "You mean about Crookshanks?"

"And your parents.”

She'd forgotten her parents in the confusion of finding Crookshanks. Looking up at him, she felt a sudden pang of remorse and fear. "Everyone's leaving me," she whispered.

Snape clasped her hand in his. "I'm not."

"But you will one day." He was just with her because of their agreement. He had gone above the call of duty, accompanying her on her trip and helping her with Crookshanks; but she didn't know if he was just doing that to be a good dom or because he was her friend. Or both. Or more.

Snape could see her thoughts beginning to race. He needed to keep her from traveling to the land of imagined doom. “How about we do something different? Would you like to dance?"

She couldn't help smiling. If he was trying to make her feel better, it was working. His calmness was contagious. "Dance?"

"We'll have our own Yule Ball," he suggested. "Come on. I know this atrocious music is getting under your skin. Your toes have been wiggling to the beat for the past hour."

Hermione wouldn't mind dancing. Anything to keep him touching her. She didn't want to be alone. Not even for a second. He guided her into a clear area of the floor and drew her close, his hand at her waist. His other hand held hers, and he started a slow circle, swaying to the sounds of Buzzy Bulocks's Winter Wonderland. 

"This is even better than Halloween," she sighed, resting her head on his chest.

He was in complete agreement. "Is it? In what way?"

 _Because I know you better now, and you care about me._ ”It’s just us here . . . in each others arms. And these lights make your room look like we're in a dream. Don't you think it's nice?"

He looked down at her. "Yes." It wasn't the lights or the music. It was nice because she was there.

"You're a very good dancer," she told him, letting her hand trail from his shoulder to the firm planes of his chest.

"Thank you.” _And I haven’t even had a sip of eggnog._ Perhaps later he’d show her his dip.  

They covered the floor several times over, somehow pressing even closer than when they'd started. One of her fingers slid between the buttons of his shirt, tickling his bare skin. His eyelids drooped, drugged by her soft touch. It wasn't remotely sexual, but his cock didn’t get the memo. It twitched in time to the beat. They might have been twitches of jealousy, but Snape suspected his dick was warming to her affection just as much as the rest of him.

Hermione didn't know dancing could be like this. In some ways it was more intimate than shagging. His hand had crept up the back of her jumper, and his roving fingers were warm and smooth. He kept running his thumb along her spine, right in the curve of her back. It made her stomach shiver. She wanted to stay like that forever.

"Do you want to take a bath before dinner?" he murmured.

"With you?"

He smiled. “I could use a good scrubbing."

"Can we make the lights come in there with us?"

Smirking, he nodded. "Bathtub Christmas lights. An untapped market. I'll see what I can do."  
  
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The bath had lulled her into a groggy stupor. The change in timezones was getting to her; she was ready for bed.

But the lights were so pretty. And he was being so sweet. He was currently drying her off, staring at her with enough heat to pop her clit like a chestnut in an open fire. If she hadn't been so sleepy, she would have been all over him.

"Did you bring pajamas, pet?"

Hermione nodded.

"Let's put them on and have dinner." 

"Can we take them back off for bed?"

His lips curled into a small grin. “I knew there was a reason you were on the naughty list.”  
  
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Hermione dropped her spoon for the third time, the clank snapping her awake. "Oh!"

"All right, pet?"

"I'm so bloody tired. What time is it?"

He looked at the clock, squinting as it swirled in his vision. "I think it's 7:30."

"I'm too tired to eat."

He set down his fork, his food half-finished. "Me too."

"Let's go to bed."

He nodded. They both stumbled toward his bed, Snape kicking off his slippers as he arrived. He peeled off her top then knelt down and pulled her snowflake pajama bottoms to the floor. Her pussy was so cute. He leaned in and kissed her mound goodnight.

Hermione smiled, straining to keep her eyes open. "Come on. You too. I don't want to be the only one naked."

Severus stood and pulled off his dressing gown then started unbuttoning his pajama top. When his fingers wouldn't cooperate, he gave up and just pulled it over his head. She pushed his pajamas to his feet, and his balls contracted in the cold. She kindly cupped his package in one hand, warming him in her hot palm. He smirked at her as he stepped out of his pooled pajamas.

Patting her bum, he nodded at the bed. "Climb in, pet."

They slipped between the sheets, and she settled next to him, wrapping her arm around his chest and resting her head on him just the way she did when they stayed at her flat. He pulled the covers up over them and put his arm around her. 

"Leave on the tree," she mumbled. "Or else Father Christmas won't find us."

He snickered. "All right."

"Night, Severus. Happy Christmas."

"Goodnight, Hermione." He kissed the top of her head. "See you in the morning."

She was already snoring softly.

Snape grinned and closed his eyes. Who needed visions of sugarplums dancing in their head when he had a naked Granger nestled snug in his bed.  
  
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Hermione blinked open her eyes. The room was glowing with the last remaining white Levitating Lights they'd used in the bath the night before. The tree was still lit, and she sat up, looking around. There were presents at the foot of the bed, shining and decked with bows. Rubbing her eyes, she checked on Severus. He was still asleep.

Careful not to wake him, she climbed out of his bed and headed for the loo. Her bladder was bursting. The cold stone floor bit at her bare feet as she dashed to the bathroom. Her entire body was one big goose pimple. She checked the time on her way back. Six o'clock in the morning. That wasn't too bad. They'd gotten some decent sleep. She crept back to the warmth of the bed, sliding under the covers with him so she'd stop shivering.

Snape reached out and placed his hand on her thigh. "You all right?" he rasped.

"Just needed the loo."

"You're shaking."

"It's cold in here."

Without opening his eyes, Snape pulled out his wand and aimed it at the fireplace. New logs floated to the grate and burst into a roaring flame. He put his wand back under his pillow and held out his arm to her. "I'll get you warm."

Hermione snuggled into him, sighing happily as he pulled up the covers and hugged her.

"What time is it?" he croaked, his voice rustier than usual.

"A little after six."

"Are you awake or going back to sleep?"

"I think I'm awake. But you can go back to sleep if you want. I like being in bed with you."

He smiled. "Did Father Christmas bring you what you wanted?"

She hugged him harder. "Yes."

Severus opened one eye and looked down at her head. "He did? What?"

"You."

He smiled and slid his hand under her hair, stroking her neck. "No refunds."

Laughing, Hermione kissed his chest. "I got you something. Do you want to open it now?"

Snape rolled his head around, cracking his neck and waking up a bit more. "All right. You open yours too." He picked up his head and looked down the bed. "Where'd all this come from?"

"Dunno," she mumbled, petting his chest hair and nuzzling his heart.

"Accio Hermione's present." Three quarters of the packages zoomed to her side. "Well aren't you popular?"

Hermione looked at the pile of shining presents. "Who're all these from?"

"Open them and find out."

Hermione turned over and picked up the first one. "This one is from Harry and Ginny and James. How did it get here?"

"The house-elves."

"Right. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Who're the others from?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley . . . Ron . . . Hagrid—oh no, I didn't get him anything."

"Open them. Let's see what you got."

Hermione opened Hagrid's first. It was wrapped in what appeared to be tinfoil and red twine. Grinning at Hagrid's excessive use of Spellotape, she ripped it open and smiled when she saw the picture inside. It was was a photo of Fang and Crookshanks, both of them stretched out in front of Hagrid's fireplace. She didn't have many pictures of Crooks. This was perfect. "I'll have to make him something."

"Like what?"

She shrugged. "I'll think of something."

Tearing open the next box, she found a pretty light blue sweater and a plate of cookies made by Mrs. Weasley. She would have put on the jumper, but she wanted to keep being naked with Severus. Ron had gotten her the new book that had just come out on ancient runes. She'd been wanting that. The Potters had gotten her a floating book rest that would stay in place wherever you wanted to read. She loved it. Now she could masturbate in the tub without getting her book wet.

Severus picked up one of his two presents while she smoothed out her wrapping paper and folded it into perfect squares. He checked the card on the first box he came to. _Minerva_. Opening it, he was surprised to find a bottle of champagne. _For you and a "friend." Happy Christmas._ He set it on the bedside table and picked up the other box. 

"That's from me," she informed him with a gleeful grin.

He slid off the red velvet ribbon and pulled the lid from the box. Wrapped in gold tissue paper, he found a tattered, old book. He should have guessed. Opening the cover, he did a double take. "Is this a first edition?"

She nodded, biting her lips so she wouldn't ask if he liked it or not. His face was unreadable.

Snape ran his finger over the title page. _Potions Artistry by Nathaniel Neubaum._ His old Potions master. The only book he'd ever written. There were only a handful of them still in existence. "Where on earth did you find this?"

"A private seller."

"How did you know?"

"Your mastery license in on file at the Ministry. I called in some favors."

"This is . . . extremely valuable. You can't afford something like this. I don't want you going hungry because you bought me a book."

She smiled. "I had some galleons saved. And the seller was willing to give me a good deal."

"I love this, Hermione. I mean it. I never thought I'd see this book for myself." 

"Good!" she exclaimed, beaming brightly. "I got some sexy Christmas knickers too, but that's a present for both of us."

He grinned at her delighted expression and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Where's my present to you?"

She held up the little box. "I was saving it for last."

"Go on. I know you're about to burst with curiosity."

Hermione pulled off the black ribbon. It went nicely with the red wrapping paper. She lifted the lid and smiled. It was a delicate gold locket, a filigree H etched in its center. "It's lovely, Severus."

"Open it."

She gently pulled it from the box's velvet lining and slid her nail along the seam at the side, popping it open. Her parents' faces smiled back at her from each interior circle. She blinked hard, biting her lip to hold back the tears. 

"It's okay. I won't feel bad if you cry."

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, wiping her tears on his bare shoulder. "I love it," she whispered. "Thank you."

He held her tightly and waited for her to calm down. When she let out a deep shuddering sigh, he kissed the side of her face. "Let me put it on for you."

Hermione handed him the locket and lifted her hair. He strung it around her neck and fastened the clasp for her. Hugging him again, she changed her mind about this being the most horrid Christmas ever. She may have lost Crookshanks, but she had gained Severus. She wondered if Crookshanks had been waiting for her to find someone who could fill the void his death left behind. Maybe that was what Crooks had been trying to tell her in her dream.

"Would you like breakfast?" Severus asked, stretching out on his side.

"Naked breakfast?"

He snorted softly. "A happy Christmas indeed."  
  
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They'd finally managed to put on some clothes after a long, lazy breakfast in bed; and Hermione had been rifling through his personal library ever since. Her exploration was going on three hours now. She had on the jumper Mrs. Weasley had knitted for her. Little white snowflakes dotted the icy blue background.

Snape wanted to go over there and see if her nipples were still frozen solid. _Later_. He didn't want to push her after all the upheaval of Australia and Crookshanks. She would come to him when she wanted more. For the time being, he was quite content to watch her flipping through his collection of books. The bibliophile in him was aroused by the sight of her thumbing through each tome, her brow furrowed in concentration, her wet pink tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth. Her jeans were breathtakingly tight, and he was getting an eyeful every time she bent over. There was plenty to be happy about this Christmas.

Severus went back to the book she'd given him, watching her from the corner of his eye. He was duly impressed with her gift. Not only was the book rare, which would have been striking enough on its own, but it was also personally significant. He was touched that she had gone to so much trouble.

A faded inscription was scrawled across the inside front cover. _Abraxas, Many thanks for your patronage. Without you this book would not have been possible. —Nathaniel (1938)_

Abraxas? Malfoy? Had she bought this from Draco? He'd ask the younger Malfoy about it the next time he saw him. Had she told Draco the book was for him? She must not have. He hadn't heard anything from Draco in weeks. Surely he would have said something.

Severus glanced at her again. She seemed so much better today. He was shocked that she'd rebounded from Crooks's death so quickly. It was obvious that she wasn't totally better, but she wasn't broken either. Could she survive another stressor, or was he being too selfish? He wanted to take her to the feast, but that would require a full tank of fortitude. She might be running low. Could she deal with the stares and whispers? Would everyone turn on him when they realized he was bedding their Golden Girl? Maybe it was time to bite the bullet. He was tired of keeping this to himself. Privacy was important to him, but he didn't like hiding her. She was the best thing in his life. Why would he want to conceal that?

"Would you like to go to the feast in the Great Hall?" he asked.

Hermione looked up from her title-skimming. "You mean with everybody?"

He nodded. "We don't have to. But the food is good, and we could actually see the sun."

"Everyone will see us together. Are you sure you want that?"

"I'm okay with it if you are. I don't mind a few stares and glares. I'm sure Minerva will have something to say. Can _you_ handle that?"

She couldn't believe he was willing to just announce their involvement so casually. "Uh . . . sure. What are we going to say to everyone?"

"What did you tell Hagrid yesterday?"

"That we were sort of seeing each other and it was complicated."

"So we'll say the same thing now. Although, we should probably leave out the details about _what_ all we've seen."

Hermione grinned. "I'll get my shoes."  
  
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They walked hand in hand to the Great Hall, and Hermione felt a tremor of anxiety twinge in her gut. Getting others' approval wouldn't change how she felt about Severus, but being shunned would hurt. She was proud to be with him, not ashamed. He was the best thing in her life right now, and she wanted other people to know that.

Snape squeezed her trembling hand as they approached the door to the Great Hall. She looked up at him and gave him a reassuring smile. They could hear the quiet chatter of the remaining faculty and students. Everyone sounded jolly and in good spirits.

This was it. 

Hermione couldn't stop the blush from burning her face as they quietly made their way to the head table where everyone was sitting. The closer they got, the more the talk died. By the time they reached the table, it was dead silent. The snow falling from the room’s charmed ceiling was the only movement.

Neville was frozen in mid-bite, staring at their joined hands with a look of horror; his meatball rolled off his fork and fell to his plate, breaking the silence with a wet splat. All the teachers were openly speechless, their eyes wide, eyebrows hiked to their hairlines. The students looked just as shocked, but their eyes darted around, seeing how everyone else was reacting. 

"Is there room for one more?" Severus asked.

McGonagall's lips twitched, holding her tongue until she knew just what was going on. "Miss Granger?" This was Snape's secret tryst?

“Hello, Professor McGonagall. I mean Headmistress.” Hermione smiled hesitantly.

“Of course there’s room for one more,” Flitwick said quickly. “Plenty to go round.”

Snape let out a internal sigh of relief. They went around the table to Snape’s usual seat, and he pulled out the chair for her. When she was seated next to McGonagall, a new plate appeared; and he pulled over one of the spare chairs for himself. The room was eerily quiet. He gave them all a dark look and began to serve himself, putting some glazed goose on her plate so she’d start eating.

“Has everyone been having a nice Christmas?” Hermione asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

The kids all nodded dumbly, their eyes going from the celebrity in their midst to their dour professor . . . then over to the puckered headmistress. This was more exciting than a Quidditch match.

Minerva took a sip of her wine, trying to think what to say. “Yes. Lovely. How has yours been?” 

Hermione didn’t want to lie. “It’s been good and bad. Crookshanks died. Hagrid buried him in his garden next to Fang for me.”

Minerva’s face softened. “I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”

Hermione managed a small smile. “Better now. Hagrid gave him a funeral, and Severus carved him nice headstone.”

“He did?” Minerva glanced past Hermione to watch Snape for a second. He was putting food on both their plates, ignoring the rest of the table. “How thoughtful.”

“Yes—” Hermione smiled—"it was.”

Minerva lowered her voice so they wouldn't be so easily heard. “How are your parents, dear? I know you go to see them this time of year.”

Hermione picked up her knife and spread some jam on the roll Snape had put on her plate. “They’re just the same. Severus went with me to check on them this year.”

Minerva was dumbfounded. She’d thought Snape was just tomcatting with some new obsession. They seemed more like a real couple. 

“It was easier with someone else there,” Hermione confessed. “He kept me from getting too mental. And he’s a good spy,” she added with a small grin. “He got us a table right next to them at a restaurant. It was like I was eating with them.”

McGonagall smiled at her wistful expression. “I had no idea you two were so close.”

Hermione poured some gravy over her mashed potatoes. “I guess we are now.”

“Are you two . . . seeing each other?”

“Yes.” Hermione smiled broadly at her plate. "Seeing each other" was the safest way to explain what they were doing.

“And you’re . . . happy?”

“Very." Hermione glanced at Snape. He kept his face blank, but under the table his leg touched hers.

“Are you staying here for the holidays?”

Snape answered before Hermione could. “Yes, she is.”

“Perhaps I’ll come and see you. I’d love to hear what you’ve been doing at the Ministry.” _And with Snape._

Hermione smiled. “We’ll probably go to bed early tonight.”

Neville choked on his meatball.

“The change in timezones threw us," Hermione explained, biting back her laugh. "We woke up early this morning.”

Sprout slapped Neville on the back, and he nodded and waved his hand to say he was all right.

Minerva watched the couple from the corner of her eye as they ate. They somehow made it seem as though they were having a quiet candle-lit dinner for two. The intimacy between them was startling. And she wasn't the only one who noticed. The rest of the table whispered excitedly amongst themselves, and the topic of discussion wasn't difficult to guess.

This would be all over the school when the students came back.   
  
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By the time the feast had ended, the staring had become less overt. Severus was relieved that things had gone so well. While he didn't particularly care what everyone thought of him, there was a small part of him that wanted to prove he was normal. Worthy. A witch cared about him. And not just any witch, a witch whom everyone else adored.

She was beside him now, walking through the halls, holding his hand where everyone could see them. He suddenly felt freer than he had in years. His heart wasn't dragging, it was bounding out of his chest, ready to take on the world. But he didn't give a shit about the world. He gave a shit about her. He wanted to take her back to his room and curl up with her in his bed. They could do whatever she wanted. Read. Kiss. Talk. He didn't care so long as he was with her.

He'd seen the looks on everyone's faces during the feast. They’d all been watching and waiting. Waiting for him to sneer at her. Waiting for him to lose his temper. Waiting for him to be Snape. Well, the joke was on them. She was the one person he was never short with. She kept him on an even keel, unaffected by life's trivialities.

“Maybe I should go talk to McGonagall,” Hermione said softly, drawing him from his thoughts. “Do you think she’s upset with us?”

“No, I think she’s concerned about you.”

“I don’t want to cause any problems for you. Maybe I could smooth things over.”

“If you want to talk to her, that’s up to you. Don’t feel as though you have to fight my battles for me.”

“I’ll go find her. Why don’t you put up some more lights in the room. I’d like to go dancing with you again when I get back.”

He smirked. “I look forward to that.”  
  
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Hermione made her way to the stone gargoyle with a smile on her face. She could still feel Snape's lips against hers. They'd just meant to kiss each other goodbye, but things had somehow gotten out of hand. They'd been sealed together, snogging in the hallway, when they heard muffled giggling coming from around the corner. Apparently they were being spied on. They'd reluctantly parted, and Snape had whispered McGonagall's password in her ear as she left.

Scanning the hall to make sure she was alone, Hermione muttered, “Tartan Plaid.”

The gargoyle turned, revealing the spiral steps. They lifted her to the landing, and she stepped off, preparing to knock. She paused when she heard McGonagall’s voice through the thick wood.

“ _You should have seen them, Albus. It was disturbing. He’s twice her age, and you know how Snape is. She gave me the impression that he’s been helping her, but how long do you think that will last? He’s going to break that poor girl’s heart. The nicer he is to her, the harder it’s going to be when he leaves her.”_

_“What makes you think he’ll leave her?”_

Hermione pressed her ear to the door and held her breath. The portrait was much quieter than McGonagall.

“ _What are you suggesting? That they’re going to get married? You know Snape as well as I do. As soon as things get too emotional, he’ll run.”_

_“Will he? I can't say I'm entirely certain of that."_

_“I should go talk to her. Maybe it’s not as serious as I think.”_

_“Aren’t you happy for her?”_

_“Happy? That she’s seeing an emotionally unavailable man? That he’s probably using her for Merlin-knows-what? I can’t imagine how they even lasted this long. How does she put up with him?”_

“ _Perhaps they have both changed in ways we know nothing about. She’s no longer a child, Minerva. If she finds pleasure in his company, I don’t see why you would want to take that from her.”_

Hermione knocked before the conversation could continue. There was some whispering and then the door creaked open. McGonagall blinked out at her, obviously surprised by her arrival.

"Miss Granger?" Minerva's voice softened. "Is something wrong?"

"I wanted to talk to you. Are you busy?"

"Not at all," Minerva said, stepping back so Hermione could come in. "Please sit down. Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you. I'm too stuffed from the feast." Hermione sat in one of the upholstered antique chairs placed before the fire. McGonagall took the other one. All the portraits were either pretending to be asleep or watching them with interest. Dumbledore's painting smiled at her and waved. She waved back. "I wanted to come to you and explain things. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea about Severus."

Minerva studied the young witch before her. The improvements in her appearance were undeniable. She was glowing. "I didn't want to press you in front of the entire hall, but I am concerned."

"I know you are. That's why I wanted to come and tell you we're getting on very well together, and he's helping me in so many ways. He's not using me. If anything, I'm using him."

Minerva's thin eyebrows rose. "In what way?"

Hermione told her lips not to smile. McGonagall was going to get the wrong impression. Or the right one. "He comes over and makes me feel better when I have a bad day. He takes care of me. And he doesn't ask for anything in return."

"Are you saying you're just friends?"

Hermione shook her head. "No . . . and yes. I think we are friends now, but it's more than that."

"So you're seriously seeing each other?"

"Um . . . sort of. We are exclusive, but . . . he's not my boyfriend. But he is my friend. I care about him, and he cares about me. That's why he went with me to Australia, to be there for me. And when we came home and found Crookshanks, it was Severus who took care of everything and suggested we have Hagrid bury him. He's been nothing but supportive."

Minerva let those words sink in for a second. "That doesn't sound like the Severus I know."

"I would have said the same thing three months ago, but when he's with me, he's nothing like he used to be. He's calm. And kind. He told me he doesn't want to be that way with anybody else. I don't understand it myself, but I think I'm the only person he lets down his guard around. At first it blew my mind every time he hugged me, but now I'm used to him being nice."

"Severus _hugged_ you?"

Hermione smiled. "He hugs me all the time. And he's really good at it."

Minerva glanced over at Albus's portrait. He was petting his beard with a small smile on his face. She knew that look. He enjoyed being right. She sighed and looked back at Hermione. "Why do you think he's treating you this way?"

"He says it's because I let him and that he trusts me. And I think he's telling the truth. I think taking care of me makes him feel better—and that makes me feel better too. He's looking out for me. And I want to look out for him. I want him to see that the world isn't all death and pain."

"That's a heavy burden for one witch to carry, Hermione. It isn't your responsibility to rehabilitate him."

"I'm not. He came to me like this. I'm just nurturing what's already there. And I'm glad he didn't get that same advice, because he _is_ rehabilitating me."

"What do you mean?"

"He makes me go to bed at a decent hour, he's trying to break my habit of obsessive cleaning, he's slowly convincing me that I shouldn't blame myself for the deaths during the final battle, he's helping me accept my parents' memory loss, and even though it makes me uncomfortable, he's trying to make me see that I'm fine just the way I am. He tells me I'm beautiful and smart. And, to him, I am. Just like he is to me."

Minerva gave her an encouraging smile. "Of course you're smart and beautiful. What ever made you think you weren't?"

The burning behind Hermione's eyes flared to life, and she blinked, looking away. "I haven't been okay for a long time. I survive. I fight. I do my job, and I love it," she added hastily. "But . . . I've been so lost. I forgot how to be myself. I didn't know how unhappy I was until I started seeing Severus. It was like he woke up something inside me."

"I want you to be happy, dear," McGonagall whispered. She'd had no idea Hermione was struggling so much. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. What are you going to do if this support he's giving you is suddenly taken away?"

"It would be difficult,” Hermione conceded. “But he's promised not to leave me like that. He won't go until he knows I have someone else to lean on."

McGonagall nodded. Whatever they had was more involved than she'd thought. "If you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here for you. Do your friends know about the two of you?"

"Ginny and Luna do . . . but Ron and Harry don't. I'll tell them soon. It's difficult to explain to people."

McGonagall thought that might be putting it lightly. What they had was difficult to explain because it was so vague. You couldn't build a relationship on "sort of " or "yes and no." If Snape meant more to her, Hermione would figure it out. She just hoped Severus came to the same revelation Hermione did.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione opened the door to his private room and laughed in delight. He must have set off all the Levitation Lights he had. The room was filled with a warm rainbow glow. "Severus, where are you? It's like Paris in here."

His head popped up from the other side of the bed. "You're back early. I didn't expect you for another hour."

Hermione spun around in the lights, grinning as they swirled in her slipstream. "I wanted to get back to you. What are you doing?"

"Putting away some things," he said, closing the drawer under his bed. He stood and came around to her. "How did it go?"

Hermione nodded. "I think I swayed her opinion on us. Once she heard how much you've been helping me, she stopped looking so sour."

 _A miracle indeed._ "And just what did you tell her?"

"Everything that wasn't sexual."

That's what he was worried about. "She'd better not expect me to treat everyone else the way I treat you."

"I told her you only did it for me." Hermione slid her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek to his chest. "She liked the locket you got me."

"Mmm," he mumbled, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Do you still want to dance or should we rest for a bit?"

"Are we going to dance with our clothes on?"

Snape looked down at her, tipping up her chin so he could see her eyes. "Are you feeling better? Or are you trying to chase away your grief with the help of my cock?"

Hermione smiled and leaned into his palm. "I had a dream about Crookshanks. I know it sounds mad, but it made me feel better. I'm still a bit sad, but I don't feel as though someone shot a bludger through my stomach anymore. I've never had a dream that left me so calm. It was weird . . . but good. Has that ever happened to you?"

"Yes," he whispered. He didn't elaborate. That dream he'd had about Lily five months ago was still vividly etched in his mind. She'd forgiven him. And she'd told him to forgive himself. She'd said he was dishonoring her memory by clinging to the pain, that she would never have wished such loneliness on the boy who was once her friend. Before she left, she kissed the center of his forehead, and he'd woken, still able to feel her breath on his brow. The weight in his chest had vanished with that parting kiss. He'd felt like a new man. His slate seemed to have been wiped clean. All with one dream.

Two months later, just when he'd been starting to wonder what he was supposed to do with his newfound freedom, he had seen Granger's ad in The Daily Prophet. He could have chosen to turn the page. But for the first time since his resuscitation, he was ready to give life a chance.

The spanking was a bonus.

"I want to do whatever makes you happy," he murmured, kissing the center of her forehead the same way Lily had kissed his. "Did you still want that Christmas spanking? Or did you just want to get naked and go back to bed?"

She smiled into his snow-white shirt. "I do want a spanking, and I have something for you as well."

"I don't want a Christmas spanking."

Hermione grinned up at him and slid her hands to his arse. "That wasn't what I had in mind. I just want to look festive."

"Jingle bell pasties?"

She laughed, shaking her head no. "Sorry. It's just lingerie."

"Put it on. This room isn't nearly festive enough."

"It looks lovely," she sighed happily. "This Christmas would have been horrid without you, Severus. Thank you for everything."

He nodded and kissed her again. "You're welcome, love. Go put on your underwear . . . and I'll take it back off for you."

"Did you just call me love?" she asked quietly.

 _Bollocks!_ "Would you prefer I didn't?"

She shook her head. "I fancied it. I like it when you call me pet too."

He smirked. "I know. Now, stop stalling and go change. I'm looking forward to some Christmas cheer."

Hermione smiled and kissed his chest. "Just give me a few minutes."

Snape watched her dash over to her bag and sneak something out of it. She went to the bathroom, and he sat on the love seat to wait for her. He didn't want to tell her that he'd called her love by mistake. Or maybe it wasn't a mistake. It had rolled off his tongue so easily. He'd called all of his subs pet. But never love. Despite its prevalence in everyday conversations, it wasn't a term he was comfortable using . . . or hearing. But saying it to her came naturally, as if he'd been calling everyone love his entire life. He'd had the urge to use the word with her before, he just didn't fight it this time. 

Severus unbuttoned his shirt and cuffs while he waited for her. He could hear her moving about in the bathroom, getting pretty for him. He was touched. She'd obviously purchased whatever she was putting on prior to their trip to Australia. She'd planned this. She wanted to do something special for him. No one had ever put so much effort into his happiness before.

She came out of the bathroom, and he blinked stupidly for few seconds. That wasn't underwear. The top part was like a bra, but the rest was more like a short gauzy dress. It was as red as a holly berry. As she came closer, he could see the bow tied beneath her breasts. It was a wrapping-job that put all other presents to shame. “What do you call this?”

She smoothed her hand down the front. “A babydoll? Do you like it?”

Like it? Like did not begin to express his feelings about that article of clothing. “You’re beautiful,” he rasped. “Come here.”

A smile lit her face as he pulled her to stand between his spread legs. His eyes ran up and down her body, and her nipples hardened behind the soft cups of her nightie as his heated gaze tickled her skin.

“Turn around.”

She did a slow turn and felt his hands petting the curve of her arse. 

“Nice,” he muttered, lifting the edge of her skirt with one finger, just checking to see what she had going on under there. Her knickers were the same deep red, small and sheer. He couldn’t wait to take them off her. “Keep turning.”

She faced him again. He looked quite handsome in the warm, glowing light. It made her heart stumble in her chest.

Snape pulled her in closer, and his eyes caught hers as he slid his hands up the back of her thighs. “You look perfect, pet. Red is definitely your color. Let’s see if we can make your bottom match.”

Hermione smiled and nodded in agreement. “Please pull down my panties and give me a nice long spanking on my bare bottom, sir.”

Snape bit his tongue to keep from laughing. She hadn’t even needed any prompting that time; she’d asked for it all on her own. “Get over my knee, little girl. I want those pretty red knickers nice and wet before I pull them down.”

Hermione’s stomach flipped in excitement as she got over his lap.

He pushed up the back of her nightie and patted her backside.

“This is just round one,” he told her. “We’ll go as long as you like.”

He slapped her bum, and the sudden sting made her jump. Her skin went all warm and tingly, which immediately caused her hips to grind in pleasure. Her body knew what that sting meant. It was time to turn on the sprinkler system. Every new smack made her wince and then wish for more. She was grateful he didn’t get any rougher. The impact was perfect. If he wanted to see how wet her knickers could get, he was going to be delighted with the creamery frothing between her legs. She could already feel the juice slipping between her lips.

A placid smile stole over Snape’s face as he smacked her bum. Those little knickers were no help to her at all—but they were doing quite a lot for him. Her wiggling dance was made all the more tantalizing by the mystery of those sheer layers. She was Salome and the seven veils. She was Cleopatra. She was his Aphrodite.

The ripple of her flesh under his hand was mesmerizing. Smack. Wobble. Smack. Wobble. Perfect. He turned her bum a deep shade of pink, watching the color develop before his eyes. Christmas couldn’t get much merrier.

“Please, sir!” she begged after a solid ten minutes. 

He stopped and rubbed her smoldering cheeks. “What is it, pet? Do you need it harder?”

“I’m so wet, sir. Please touch me.”

“Are these Christmas panties full of good tidings already? Let’s see.” He peeled her knickers over her red bum and grinned at the mess she’d made. “What’s all this, Miss Granger? It looks as though you’re having a very happy holiday . . . or someone spilled eggnog in your knickers. I'd better get these off you straight away.”

She lifted her hips and whimpered as he slowly pulled down her panties. He set them on the seat beside him, and she could smell her own excitement drifting through the air.

“Spread those legs, little girl. I want to see that pretty little cunt shining like the star on that tree.”

Hermione spread her legs as wide as she could.

Snape smirked. “That’s it. Arch that bottom into the air.” He rubbed her rounded rump as she responded. “I think you need a little more spanking before we move on, but let's check to be sure.”

Hermione groaned as his finger traced her slit. Her labia was already pulling open, encouraging his penetration. She could hear him wading through her folds. The sound was embarrassingly delicious. 

“Look how wet my little Gryffindor is tonight,” he purred in a low voice. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she panted.

“Say it.”

“I love it when you spank me, sir. Please put your fingers inside me.”

He nodded. “I’ll finger you while I finish this up. Are you ready for the next round?”

“Yes, sir!”

He slid through her juice with ease, and her muscles clamped around him, holding his fingers inside her. Reaching over with his other hand, he patted her bouncy bum. “Let’s make these a little bit harder.”

She was too excited to speak. All that came out was a squeak of agreement. 

 _Smack!_ His fingers curled inside her as each blow landed. _Smack!_ This was one hell of a Christmas show. Fuck the Nutcracker—this deserved a stage in the West End. He could watch her every night. And matinees. _Smack!_ The dance of the Sugarplum Fairies couldn’t hold a candle to her. And she didn’t need a spotlight with that gleam glowing between her legs. His hand was already shining with her talents.

 _Smack!_ Hermione cried out. She was about to lose it. _Smack!_ The sound of his hand slapping her arse was turning her on. But the sound of her own moaning excited her even more. He transformed her into a carnal goddess like no one else. He was the only man who could make her feel safe and wanton all in the same second. She could be a sobbing mess, and he would still fuck her as if she were the sexiest woman on the planet. Whether she was submissive or playful, he seemed to want it all. She was about one minute away from finding out if he could take the aggressive side of her too. “Unnnnh!”

His cock strained against his fly. It was almost time to ream that glazed cherry wreath.

“Please stop, sir. I want to come with you inside me.”

He froze, and a slow smile spread over his face. “That sounds like a Christmas wish I can fulfill.”

Hermione got off his lap as fast as possible. She unzipped him in record time. His dick sprang out of his fly like an obscene jack-in-the-box. He lifted his hips for her, and she tugged his trousers to his knees. She didn’t have the patience to pull them off completely before climbing aboard. He seemed to be mildly amused by her sudden ardor, but his face betrayed nothing more revealing. 

Until she sank down on him. 

When his cock pierced her, he grunted and grabbed hold of her hips; his lip curled back in a hiss. With her hands braced on his shoulders, Hermione impaled herself on his staff, whispering his name as he filled her. The feeling was exquisite. She was so wet she was dripping down his shaft like ice cream in a heat wave. She ground her hips into him, and they both moaned in unison.

Severus didn’t know what had gotten into her, but he was reaping the rewards. She started to ride him, her bum tapping his thighs with a muffled clap each time she descended. He growled and held onto her as she pounded them to glory.

They both jumped as the wireless suddenly clicked on and broke the heated silence. 

“ _Frosty the snowman had to hurry on his way. But he waved goodbye saying, ‘Don’t you cry. I’ll be back again someday.'”_

Hermione’s lips twitched into a laugh. “Did you do that?”

“Most certainly not. I told you this song wasn’t conducive to fucking. Look how you’ve lost your rhythm.”

She smiled wickedly as the next song started. “I’ve got it back now.”

“ _Run Run, Rudolph. Santa’s gotta make it to town.”_

He choked on his snicker as she picked up the driving beat. _Fuck!_ He was wrong. Shagging to Christmas songs was a brilliant idea. They should do it year round. Her mouth slackened with pleasure, and her eyes scalded him like chocolate fondue. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd pulled down her top with both hands so her breasts bounced free of their trappings. He pinched her gumdrop nipples between his thumb and forefinger and shook her tits like bowls full of jelly. 

“Gonna come,” she gasped.

He nodded and pressed his lips to hers, growling as her cry echoed in his mouth. It rang all the way down to his balls, and his sac quivered in the resonance.

“Uuuunnnnhhh!” Her pussy pulsed around him, frosting him like a batch of Christmas biscuits. He shuddered and huffed, his breath puffing over her cheek as he jerked against her. His body tensed to stone between her thighs.

Severus sighed out a long moan as his balls rang in the holidays. Every bong jolted through his core. A carillon of come.

When they were both sated and gasping for breath, Severus tipped back his head and detached their lips. “Bloody hell," he panted. "That was . . .”

“Festive?”

“I was thinking fabulous. I’m afraid the thought of red-nosed reindeer will forever make me hard from this moment on.”

“Do you want to do it again?” she asked, kissing his cheek with a grin.

“If I get to pick the song,” he mumbled groggily.

“Let’s leave the music playing and go take a bath. When we get out, I’ll lick your balls while we listen to Deck the Halls.”

He snorted as he brushed his nose over hers. “I’ll bring the mistletoe.”  
  
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Boxing Day proved to be much more relaxed than Christmas. When they went to have lunch in the Great Hall, they still drew stares and whispers; but everyone seemed much more at ease around the couple. Neville didn't choke once.

Hermione was just tucking into her roast beef when the door to the hall burst open, and Harry and Ginny stormed in. Harry was on guard, his wand drawn and at the ready; Ginny looked like red-headed wrath on the war path. James was in Ginny's arms, and he grinned in delight, excited by the adventure he was on.

"Where is she, Snape?" Ginny bellowed. 

Hermione leaned over so she could see more clearly. "Who?"

"Hermione?" Ginny breathed, her face dropping in confusion. "Where have you been? Are you all right? You weren't at our party and you didn't come over on Christmas. We went to your house, and you weren't there. Crookshanks wasn't even there."

Hermione got up and went around the table to them, hugging Ginny and James. "I'm so sorry. I should have owled you. Severus went with me to check on my parents, and when we got back the morning of Christmas Eve, Crooks was dead."

Ginny's jaw dropped, and Harry winced. "No," they both muttered.

Hermione nodded. "Severus suggested we bring Crooks here to be buried in Hagrid's garden. After the funeral, we were both really tired, and I forgot about the party. And the next day I was so caught up in Christmas and being here . . . and thinking about Crooks and my parents, I totally forgot about coming over. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"You sure you're okay?" Harry asked, tucking his wand back in his cloak. "Ginny said Snape might've done something to you." He glanced over at the Potions master. "She said you've been seeing him. What's going on? Why did Snape go with you to Australia? And since when do you call him Severus?"

The hall was very quiet, eavesdropping on the exchange. It wasn't every day the students got to see two-thirds of the Golden Trio hashing it out in the Great Hall.

"Since he asked me to," she answered. "I didn't know how to tell you about all this, Harry. At first I didn't even know what it was or if I should even mention it. I didn't want upset you over something that I wasn't sure about."

"But now?" Harry asked. "You're spending Christmas with him? He's taking you to see your parents? He helped you bury Crooks? It's obviously something now."

She could see the hurt in his eyes. "Yes, it is. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but we're still getting used to it ourselves."

Harry took a deep breath and lowered his voice. "You're dating him? Why? I mean . . . why Snape of all people?"

"Because I like being with him," she said softly. "He understands what I'm dealing with, and he likes me despite all my craziness. You have Ginny and James," she said, ruffling the little boy's hair. "But I don't have anyone. I need someone to talk to who will help me get though all this."

"And you think that person is Snape?" he asked with a dumbfounded look.

"It is right now," she said honestly. "He's helped me a lot. He's not like he used to be."

Harry glanced over at the head table again, torn between wanting to believe his friend and remembering the past. "He's not hurting you . . . or being mean?"

She shook her head and whispered, "He hugs me everyday and tells me I'm beautiful."

Hugs from Snape sounded like a sick punishment to him, yet she seemed to fancy it a great deal. He was baffled by her choice, but he had to take her word for it that Snape was what she needed. For now. "If I ever hear him say one harsh word to you, I'll hex that giant nose right off his face. But . . ." He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. "If he makes you happy . . . I'll . . . be happy for you."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry sighed and finally smiled too. "Ron is not going to like this."

Ginny smirked. "We'll wait and tell him after a win . . . and a few drinks."

James held out his arms to Hermione. "Aunty Hermy."

Hermione took him from Ginny. "Hello, James. I got the book holder you sent me. I love it. Did you get my present?"

He nodded. "The dancing puppy."

She smiled. Read to Me Rex came to life when the child read out loud to them. Balancing on his hind legs was one of his tricks. "Did Father Christmas bring you lots of toys?"

He beamed at her. "A broom!"

Hermione smirked at Ginny. "A broom? Have you been racing Mummy in the living room?"

He shook his head, laughing as he looking around. "Where's Cooks?"

Harry and Ginny glanced nervously at each other. Talk of death had been averted up to that point.

Hermione kissed his cheek. "Crooks was very old. He died the other day. He ran out of energy."

James looked confusedly hopeful. "He's sleeping?"

"No." She smiled softly. "His heart stopped beating, and he isn't breathing anymore. He's not alive like you and me and Mummy and Daddy. You know how when Mummy puts flowers on the table they eventually turn brown and fall apart?"

He nodded.

"The same thing happens to people and animals but muuuuuch slower. We get old and brown and then our bodies don't work so well. When our hearts can't keep up, they just stop, like when your wind up car runs out of juice."

"Cooks is gone? I can't pet him?"

"Not anymore," she whispered, realizing she wanted to pet Crooks too. "We buried him in Hagrid's garden. There's a stone there with his name on it so people will remember how much we loved him. You can go there and say goodbye if it makes you feel better."

He nodded slowly, thinking it over. "Is Fang with Haggie?"

Ginny grinned. "Fang freaks him out."

A drooling hulk of persistent dog would scare her if she were only two feet tall too.

James shook his head. "Not scared," he declared emphatically.

Harry smiled. "We know you're not scared, but we'll make sure Hagrid keeps him in the house anyway."

"Just give me a second and I'll take you out to see it," Hermione told them. She turned to the table and gave Severus an unsure smile. "Do you want to go see Crooks's grave with us?"

Puttering through the snow with Potter sounded revolting. But he'd travel to hell and back for her. "I'll summon our cloaks."

James patted her locket, watching the stranger go from the corner of his eye.

Hermione gave James a conspiratorial look. "You want to see a picture of my mum and dad?"

He nodded eagerly. 

Hermione opened the locket for him and held it so he could see. "That's my mum and that's my dad."

"Are they like Cooks?"

She shook her head. "No, they're just in another country. Far away."

Ginny peered over James's shoulder. "Where did you get that?"

"Severus gave it to me for Christmas. Isn't it lovely?"

Ginny was impressed. "Yes."

Harry leaned over James's shoulder to take a look.

That was a far more thoughtful present than he ever would have expected from Snape. How close were they? No wizard bought a witch a locket with her parents' pictures inside unless things were serious. 

Harry studied Snape as he returned with Hermione's cloak. Snape helped her into it, and Harry watched in horrified fascination as she smiled and stroked his chest in thanks. Snape took her hand, and they all started out of the Great Hall. Ginny was laughing and talking with Hermione and Snape as if this was perfectly normal, as if Snape were just another wizard Hermione was dating. He couldn't deny that Hermione looked much better than the last time he'd seen her, but . . . Snape? He didn't know if he would ever get used to this.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus watched the fire's shadows flicker across the ceiling. Her soft breath ghosted over his naked chest like the sigh of an angel. He couldn't sleep yet. The time he had with her was limited. She would leave for work in the morning.

Even though the past four days had been a wild ride of emotions, it had been the best four days of his life. Her presence made the rest of the world tolerable.

But times like this, when they were alone and quiet, holding on to each other, shielding each other from the bleak and insidious hazards of humanity, this was indescribable. His heart knew the words. Respite. Deliverance. Peace. But no language uttered on Earth could accurately define the exultation pumping through his veins.

If things kept going at this rate, the coming year would be the best of his life. He kissed the top of her head and took a deep breath, wrapping his senses in her scent. It was the perfume of hope. He let down his guard a little more and allowed himself to look forward to the future. The possibilities were bright with her lighting the way.

He closed his eyes, smiling as he ran his hand over her bushy hair.

Comfort and joy indeed. 


	12. You Can Talk to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact. A Tilt-A-Whirl is called a Waltzer in Europe (vice versa for you Europeans). Yes, this is pertinent to the story.

January blustered by, cold and icy; but Hermione and Severus did their best to keep each other warm. Every weekend was a tangle of lips and limbs, a sweaty quest to see who could make the other moan more.

Hermione “opened Pandora’s box” (sometimes with two fingers) and discovered the real way to a man’s heart was through his prostate. Anytime she wanted to get him hard, all she had to do was put her lips to his ear and whisper what she had in store for his arse.

Not to be outdone, Severus found that pinning her wrists to the bed made her come faster than a flash of lightning. He also found her collection of erotica hidden in her closet. After some crafty cajoling, she admitted which stories were her favorite; and he’d been analyzing them to discover what made her tick. She was much dirtier than he’d ever imagined. 

They went back to Moonglow’s, and he picked out a few more toys he thought she might like: some anal beads (which he convinced her to wear to the market), a riding crop (which had her dripping in five minutes flat), and a wooden paddle (which she engraved with the words “Property of the Half-Blood Prince” after he left Monday morning).

They went to some posh lingerie shops, and Snape picked out what he wanted to see her wear. He mostly liked her in Slytherin green and Gryffindor scarlet. The one black piece he bought her was a lace teddy. It was gorgeous, the legs cut all the way up to her waist. She wore it with her charmed Stay-up Stockings that had the little black bows at the back. He must have fancied the look as much as she did, because he insisted on pulling out and coming all over her whenever she wore it. Hermione didn’t mind the cleanup. Pearls went well with black lace.

Her favorite piece, though, was a diaphanous creamy white nighty with a Grecian drape to the top. She looked like a vestal virgin when she wore it. She put it on even when he wasn’t there, walking around the flat like a empress and offering up her pussy to the phallic deity in her nightstand. When Snape was there, she’d put it on and entice him into performing a clit worshiping ceremony. He’d prostrate himself before her pussy and lap up her ambrosia like a voracious devotee. They’d switch places afterward, and she’d bow down before the pillar of his sex, blessing his virtues with the grace of her lips and tongue. Pandora could always resurrect him if he came in her mouth. They both liked to complete the ritual by having his cock sanctify her temple with his seed. Elysium was their favorite destination, and bliss was most easily found in the merging of their bodies.

Peace, however, was most easily found in stillness. Holding each other offered a contentment they could find nowhere else. They could stay locked at the lips for days, arms and legs entwined like Devil’s Snare.

When they weren’t busy snogging, they’d read together, her head in his lap, or his in hers. They talked for hours on end—about forgiveness and regret, recovery and change, life and death. They debated articles in the most recent potions publications. They critiqued the books they were reading. They pondered the philosophers and their theories.

The only thing they didn’t talk about was the nature of their relationship. It remained the one taboo subject between them. If they questioned the the status quo, something might be set out of balance. Neither of them wanted to risk it.

They both had too much to lose.

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

It was Thursday evening, and Hermione and Ginny were at Luna's flat, having a girl's night out. Harry was taking care of James, and Ginny had already downed over half a bottle of wine in celebration. Luna kept making strawberry daiquiris, and Hermione had already had two, the fruity sweetness disguising the wretchedness of the alcohol. They had been catching up all night while Luna practiced hair-styling charms on Hermione and Ginny. She claimed everyone needed a new look every once in a while, and Luna’s “looks” tended to be of the avant-garde variety. Ginny was sporting several explosive ponytails, and Hermione’s hair was in the middle of a braiding bonanza.

Ginny leaned back into the couch and smiled blissfully at the ceiling. "The last time I left Harry alone with James, he Flooed my mum six times for help."

Hermione giggled into her glass. "Harry's great with James."

"Yes, he is," Ginny agreed. "But he's always worried he's doing something wrong."

"Is he?" Luna asked.

Ginny laughed. "Not really. But he forgets little things that kids care about. He gives him the wrong sippy cup, or doesn't kiss his boo boos when he puts on a murtlap plaster. Every time James cries, Harry says, 'What did I do wrong?' He tries so hard, he just slips up."

"At least he tries," Hermione told her.

Raising her bottle in a sloshy salute, Ginny toasted him in a slurry voice, "To my adorable husband, savior of the wizarding world—" Ginny paused for another swig of wine—"who couldn’t remember the words to Goodnight Sleepy Hippogriff if his life depended on it."

Luna smiled. "Is that a requirement?"

Ginny nodded. "Sometimes I wake up singing it in my sleep." She started to hum softly under her breath.

Luna used her wand to separate Hermione's hair into sections. "What about you and Snape?"

Hermione shook her head. "He never asks me to sing Goodnight Sleepy Hippogriff. And I extend him the same courtesy."

Luna grinned. "I meant, how's it going?"

Ginny looked over, her head wobbling slightly. "Yes, how's it going? Tell us all about the secret life of Severus."

Hermione smiled. "I don't think there is a secret life of Severus . . . except me. Although I guess I'm not a secret anymore."

"I'm surprised it hasn't been in The Daily Prophet yet," Ginny said with a smirk. "What's he like? We're dying to hear everything."

"Woof," Luna concurred.

Hermione snorted into her drink. "He's really much sweeter than I expected."

"Are you saying he's not spanking you anymore?" Ginny waved her bottle in concern.

Hermione blushed. "No, he's still spanking me.”

"Is he good at it?" Luna asked.

Hermione nodded. "Very. I'm surprised my flat's not flooded every weekend."

Ginny burst into a gales of laughter. "What's the sex like? Does he fuck you like a Slytherin?"

"Like a Slytherin? What's that mean?"

"You know . . . Hufflepuffs work the hardest, Ravenclaws know the most, Gryffindors like to try new things."

Hermione had never heard any of that before. "And Slytherins?"

Ginny grinned. "They're perverts."

Hermione grinned back. "Maybe I was sorted into the wrong house then."

Ginny's guffaw almost spilled her wine. "Nope, you like to try new things. You're one of us."

"I guess he's a little bit of all of those."

"A renaissance man. I like that," Ginny sighed, sinking back onto the couch. "But he _is_ perverted, _isn't_ he?" she said knowingly.

“He doesn't seem to have too many sexual boundaries. Or I haven’t found them yet."

"You look much happier now," Luna said softly. 

"I am. We have a lot in common. It's nice to talk about things no one else wants to talk about."

Ginny couldn't stop giggling. "He looks happier too. And I saw the way he had his arm around you at Christmas . . . and the way you looked at him."

"How did I look at him?"

"Like you were addicted to him—like you wanted to marry him and have a thousand of his babies. I thought you two were just shagging for fun."

Luna unbraided a section of Hermione’s hair and charmed it into a spiky spiral. "Is it more than shagging?" she asked, studying the corkscrew.

Hermione nodded. "He's my friend. We've gotten very close."

Luna glanced at Ginny. They could both tell it was more than that. Luna made another corkscrew and casually asked, "Do you love him?"

Hermione knew she did, but she didn't know how to deal with it yet. "Yes. But I'm not sure if that's right or not. We made it clear in the beginning what this was going to be. We basically agreed he'd be a dominant with benefits."

"But now it's more?" Luna asked.

"It is for me," Hermione sighed. "I know he loves to be with me and I know he cares, but I'm afraid to say anything. Maybe it's only working because there's no pressure. If I tell him that I want to date him for real and drop the whole arrangement pretense, I'm worried it'll scare him off and I'll ruin this one thing I have that keeps me sane."

"What if he feels the same way?" Luna suggested.

Hermione nodded. "I think he does, but that doesn't mean he wants to take it to another level. He's changed, but I know he still doesn't totally trust life to not shit all over him."

Luna nodded sagely. "Maybe if he knew you loved him, he'd trust life a little more."

She wasn't so sure he was ready for that. Or if she was ready to ask. "I'm fine with things the way they are."

Ginny raised her bottle to her. "Then don't tell him. You haven't been seeing each other for very long. Give him some more time. Snape doesn't seem like the kind of man who'd be comfortable with declarations of love."

Luna shook her head. "I disagree. I think a declaration of love is exactly what Snape needs."

"I'll think about it," she assured them both. "Maybe there’s some other way to find out how he feels without saying anything."  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione spent the entire weekend with him debating whether or not she should say anything. She was driving herself batty. She kept analyzing his actions, trying to figure out if he wanted more or if he just wanted things to continue as they were. He seemed happy, but that didn’t give her any conclusive answers.

It was Sunday evening, and they were both reading on the sofa, except Hermione couldn’t concentrate on her book. She kept peeking up at Snape and thinking about how to broach the subject with him. He was engrossed in his own book, so her furtive looks went unnoticed. Her mind was starting to race with possible scenarios. Some good, some bad. She’d almost gnawed her lower lip to a pulp. _Come on, Hermione. Aren’t you supposed to be brave? Just say something._

Her feet were in his lap, and she wiggled her toes to get his attention. “Severus?”

“Hm?”

“Um . . . I need to talk to you about something.”

Snape glanced over at her. She looked worried. The whole weekend had been a bit odd. She seemed to be more lost in her thoughts than usual. Maybe she was finally ready to tell him what was on her mind. He marked his place and set aside his book. “I'm all ears.”

His hand wrapped around her foot, and his thumb ran along her sole like a steamroller. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d become. “Uh . . .” This was a lot harder with him staring at her. She wished he hadn’t put down his book. “I need to ask you something.”

She’d already said that. Why was she acting so strangely? “Yes?”

Her heart was suddenly pounding like an out of control bass drum. She was going to be sick. “Um,” she wiped her face. “It’s hard for me to say.”

 _I got that impression._ "You know you can tell me anything.”

It wasn’t telling him that scared her, it was the aftermath. If he just wanted to be good friends who fuck, she might be destroying everything they’d built. “I know . . . it’s just . . .”

Severus studied her. Was something wrong? Was what she had to say so bad she couldn’t find the words? He’d never seen her so tongue-tied.

She couldn’t do it. Not yet. She needed to think of a better way to ask. She couldn’t just wing it. _Bollocks_. Now he was expecting some huge confession, and she didn’t know what to say.

“Do you need something, pet?”

Need something? “Yes.” That was it. She’d just confess something embarrassing. He’d know if it was a lie, so she had to be honest. There were plenty of things she hadn’t asked him for yet, embarrassing things she hadn’t known how to suggest. She just had to pick a fantasy. “Uh . . . you know how you said all I had to do was ask for a spanking and you’d give it to me?”

“Yes.” He’d just spanked her the night before. Was she ready for more?

“What about other stuff?”

“Other stuff? Do you mean sexually?”

“Yes. Will you give me anything I ask for?”

“You know I would. Tell me what you’ve been thinking about, pet.”

“Ummm, okay. I . . . I want you to be a bit rougher.”

“Why didn’t you just say that while I was fucking you?”

“I don’t want you to be rougher all the time, I just want to . . . try something.”

“I think you’re going to have to be a little more explicit. I need to know exactly what you want.”

“I want you to tie me up.”

Snape nodded. “To the bed? To the ceiling? To the chair?”

“Uh . . . the bed’s fine. I just want to try it out.”

“With rope . . . magic . . . handcuffs?”

“I guess magic.”

“Is that what you were so worried about? Asking me to tie you up?” She wasn’t lying to him, but she was still holding something back.

“There’s more.”

“Well, so far you haven’t said anything remotely embarrassing. I think I can handle whatever it is.”

“I . . .” She took a deep breath. “How do you feel about role-playing?”

He shrugged. “Depends on the role.”

“I want you to be Professor Snape.”

Severus smiled. “That’s a role I know well.”

“And I want to be the Head Girl.”

"You were made for the part, love.”

Hermione smiled back. “I want you to punish me.”

“For . . . ?”

“Fun.”

He nodded, unable to keep a straight face. “Do you want it to hurt?”

“Yes . . . but not _too_ much.”

Snape chuckled and ran his hand up her calf. “Do you want me to treat you like a naughty schoolgirl?”

“If you punish naughty schoolgirls by tying them to the bed.”

He laughed. “They usually get the cane, but I think you’re a special case.” Sliding his hand up her thigh, he motioned for her to come closer. “Come over here, love. I need to talk to you too.”

Hermione crawled over and climbed in his lap, hiding her face in his neck. He hugged her tightly, and she felt him place a soft kiss to her hair.

He wouldn’t let her hide. Tipping up her chin with one hand, he made her look into his eyes. “From now on I want to hear all your fantasies. You don’t need to be embarrassed. I told you I was here to help you. And that means sexual things too, not just hugs and red bums. Okay?”

She nodded. “There are some things I think about that I don’t know if I really want to try.”

He smirked. “Well, you can tell me those things too. We’ll figure it out together.” He’d seen the way she was eyeing the ball gags during their last shopping trip. There was plenty more she had to tell him.

“Is there anything you want to do with me?” she asked, hoping he wanted to shove his cock in her mouth and fuck her face.

He had to weigh that answer carefully. There were things he wanted to try with her, but timing was everything when it came to broadening sexual horizons. “I’ll have to consider that, pet. My thoughts are too preoccupied by my upcoming meeting with the Head Girl to think about it now.”

She grinned. “Do you want to do it now?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Hold on,” she said, climbing out of his lap. “I have to change first.”

“Change?" He looked at his white dress shirt. "Should I change too?”

She bent down to kiss his forehead. “No, you look good—like Professor Snape after school.”

His heart jolted as her breath breezed over his brow. “Then I’ll be right here . . . waiting for you to show up for detention.”

Hermione grinned. “You know that three-part story I showed you with the professor who rhapsodized about the different kinds of knickers while he spanked that line of girls?”

He chuckled and nodded. “Yes, I do. And I already guessed that was the kind of punishment you wanted. I know what you like, pet.”

Oh good. She didn’t have to explain. “Thank you, sir. I promise I’ll be on time for detention.”

Severus smiled, watching her bum as she dashed away. He was looking forward to turning that arse red. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that she hadn’t told him the complete truth. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but it seemed she was keeping something from him.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus looked up as she entered the room. _Bloody hell._ He had to cover his smile with one hand so she wouldn't think he was laughing at her. He really wasn’t. He just wasn’t expecting the full regalia. That wasn’t her old Hogwarts uniform; she must have bought it in the last couple of years. The skirt was red plaid and the shirt was too form-fitting to be regulation. It clung to her like a second skin. The top three buttons were undone, giving him a glimpse of her cleavage. White knee socks and penny loafers completed the ensemble. She looked sweetly sexy, and he wanted to flip her over his knee and find out what kind of knickers she had on. She self-consciously twirled a curl around her finger as she squirmed under his gaze. She’d pulled her hair into bunches—as any self-respecting naughty schoolgirl would—and he had the urge to grab one in each hand and hold her reins while he rode her face. _Maybe later._ “You’re just on time, Miss Granger. Come in.”

Hermione mashed her lips together so she wouldn’t start giggling. She felt slightly silly, but her pussy didn’t seem to have any reservations. The gusset of her knickers was already blotted with excitement.

“Do you know why I’ve asked you to come and see me this evening?” He kept his voice dark and low, reserving the purr that made her so creamy for later.

“No, sir. Am I in trouble?”

She was wringing her fingers together, just as she had the first night he’d spanked her. She really was nervous. He couldn’t blame her. Exposing one’s secret fantasies could be terrifying.

“Trouble is a relative term,” he replied enigmatically. Sitting back, he used his years of experience to intimidate her with his body language, spreading his arms along the couch back and making himself appear larger. “You’ve been defacing school property.”

Hermione stared at him. “I have?” Where was he going with this?

“Yes. Every day when you leave my class, your chair is mysteriously damp. Would you care to explain?”

She bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile. “Uh . . . I really fancy your lectures?”

The corners of his mouth twitched, but he pursed his lips to hide it. “I see. Come closer, Miss Granger.” When she was standing before him, he nodded at her hem. “Lift your skirt.”

Hermione crossed her hands in front of her. “Why?”

“Because I want to see if you’re telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Lift your skirt, young lady, or I’ll turn you over my knee and lift it for you.”

Hermione was happy either way. She curled her fingers around the hem and lifted her skirt to her waist.

Leaning forward to observe, Severus smirked at the tiny wet spot already forming on the white cotton. White cotton. Such a good girl. “What’s this?” he asked, lightly touching the transparent circle. “I haven’t been lecturing.”

That one tiny touch hadn’t been enough; her pearl was trying to swell its way out of her shell. “I was excited about seeing you alone, sir.”

He sat back again, giving her a cool arch of one eyebrow. “Were you? You’re not one of those girls who sits through class daydreaming about being bent over the teacher’s desk, are you?”

 _Guilty_. “Is that wrong, sir?”

“It depends on what you intend to do about it. Being teacher’s pet in my classroom isn’t a position for the faint of heart. I like to see a red bottom at all times.”

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir.”

“And I like a witch who can take the cane without complaint. A witch who enjoys it is even more pleasing.”

The cane. That just made her knickers wetter. “I can please you, sir. Please give me a chance to prove myself to you. I’ll work harder than any other Head Girl you’ve ever had.”

“I had no idea you were so accommodating. If you can take everything I deal out tonight, I might be persuaded to show you the perks of being teacher’s pet.”

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

“Go bend over the table in the other room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, sir.”

Severus waited until she was quiet in the kitchen then went to the bedroom for his supplies: the cane, the big leather paddle, a piece of parchment, and a self-inking quill. As he was sorting through the implements, he noticed the engraving she’d done on their most recent purchase. Picking it up, he flipped it over and studied it. _Property of the Half-Blood Prince_. He smirked. That cheeky little devil. If that was the game she wanted to play, he’d play it. Leaving the wooden paddle in the middle of the bed, he gathered up everything else and headed for the kitchen. She was waiting for him just as requested: bent over, hands and elbows flat on the table. He laid everything out where she could see it. “Do you know what the penalty is for leaving your bodily fluids all over one of my chairs?”

 _Well, I’m guessing it’s not pussy-licking,_ she thought, looking over his haul. “No, sir.”

“We’ll start with lines. When you’ve convinced me you’ve learned your lesson, I’ll give you six licks with the paddle. Remember, Head Girls need to set an example. Your punishment will have to be more severe as a warning to the others.”

“Yes, sir. What should I write?”

“I think we’ll start with . . . I will not hump the classroom chairs.” He pushed the parchment in front of her and held out the quill. “Fifty times. I suggest you write quickly.”

Hermione’s face was flaming. He was really good at this game. She hadn’t been prepared for him to be so intense. He was playing it straight, acting like a real professor . . . who conducted the most inappropriate detentions ever. His voice growled through her guts, making her stomach tremble. He’d never really been super strict with her. His spankings were always a fine balance of smacks and strokes. And so far, all her adventures with the cane had been the same: sensual and stingy. 

She wanted the naughtiness, but she wanted the rush of discipline too. That was why she had mentioned the story. That professor was a good mix of painful punishment and sweet sex. She wanted the fucking a little rougher than that, but she still wanted him to take care of her. That was hard to explain. It might sound contradictory to anyone else, but she knew Snape understood. She took the quill from his hand and set to work on her lines. 

Severus stood behind her for minute, taking a mental picture of her bent over so temptingly, her bum and pussy just out of sight beneath the red plaid. He would expose her exactly the way she wanted, embarrass her with her own desires. If she thought her knickers were wet now, she didn’t know what was coming. That arse was his. He'd tag it with his finest graffiti.

Flipping up her skirt, he smirked at her little cotton knickers. She’d gone for innocent over naughty. He never knew which Hermione was going to come out to play. Some days she’d be begging to be his good girl, wearing her hair in bunches and squirming around like an embarrassed virgin; other days, she’d be sprawled out in her bed like a princess, a wicked smirk curling her pink lips as she turned over to show him her naked arse being bisected by the black lace of her teddy. That Hermione got on top of him a rode him like a undulating goddess. Passionate Hermione, on the other hand, rode him like a Brahman Bull. She’d show up out of the blue, ambushing him like a panther springing from the underbrush. He usually had scratch marks or bruises the next day to commemorate the attack. He found himself absently fingering each injury when he was lost in thought. He wasn’t averse to pain when it reminded him of such pleasures.

But most weekends were dominated by Naughty Schoolgirl Hermione, who liked to stick her well-spanked arse in the air and wiggle it around until he entered her from behind and pounded against her like rolling thunder. All those Hermiones kept him on his toes, and he adored each one.

The only one he didn’t have name for was the one who liked the fucking deep and slow while she stared into his eyes like a mesmerist on morphine. She would stroke his face and kiss him like an angel as he rocked inside her. Maybe that was the natural Hermione. She made what they were doing seem less like sex and more like a melding of their souls. No other witch had ever made him feel like that. He fucking loved that Hermione.

He wasn’t totally sure which Hermione he was dealing with tonight, but he suspected it wasn't really Naughty Schoolgirl Hermione. Perhaps a close cousin. The one thing all her sexual personalities had in common was a penchant for spanking. This one seemed to be of the same mould.

 _Smack!_ Hermione jumped as his hand slapped her right cheek. It left behind a warm handprint that faded where it met with the border of her knickers. _Smack!_ Her quill left a scribbled scratch in its wake. _Shit_. Now her lines weren’t neat. _Smack!_ She sucked in her breath. _Smack!_ Did he seriously expect her to write while he was doing that?

“I don’t hear lines being written, Miss Granger.” _Smack!_ “You’d better finish your assignment.” _Smack!_

Bloody hell. She tried to keep writing. _I will not hump the classro_ — _Smack!_ _Fuck! I will not hu_ — _Smack!_ _Double fuck!_ Every slap left a huge slash in her sentence. It looked as though a seismograph was predicting a coming earthquake. _I will not_ — _Smack!_ It was hard to concentrate. _Smack!_ He was getting faster. She tried to keep up with his rhythm, writing faster to match the pace. _Smack!_ “Mm!”

“How many lines do you have, Miss Granger?” 

She started to count. _Smack!_ It took her three tries to come up with an answer. “Twenty-four, sir.”

 _Smack!_ “If this isn’t inspiring enough for you, I can pull down your knickers and we can do this on the bare.” _Smack!_

“No, no, sir! I’m writing as fast as I can.” Those knickers were the only thing keeping her arse from spontaneously combusting.

“Tell me when you get to thirty, and I’ll check your work.” _Smack!_

Hermione felt as if she were writing lines on a Waltzer at the circus. Her pulse was racing, perhaps trying to outrun the fire spreading over her backside. _Smack!_ _Oh God!_ Her pussy was trying to put out the fire too. All liquid had been diverted to her sex to keep it protected from the flames. _Smack!_ “Done, sir!”

He leaned over her, smirking when she sighed in relief. “Your handwriting is atrocious. I can barely read this. If you’re going to write like child, I’m going to have to punish you like one.”

Hermione was still reeling from the sting. She felt his fingers on her hips, and then her knickers were sliding over her arse like a sheet of heat. He left them right below her bum, exposing her cheeks. The cotton crotch was still absorbing her overflow.

“Just twenty more lines,” he said, tapping her parchment with one finger. “I want you to tell me every time you get four lines finished. Do you understand me, young lady?” He cupped her fiery buttocks in one hand and gave it squeeze.

“Yes, sir.”

He waited for her write one line just to make sure she still had her wits about her. Then he picked up the cane. Giving his hand a decent thwack, he tested the sting. _Hm_. The most memorable lines were the ones that traversed a penitent bottom.

Hermione froze as he began to tap the rattan against her bare bum. He wasn’t hitting her with it, but it felt as though the most impatient clock in the world was reminding her to get a move on. She sped up to keep it happy. “Okay, sir. I did four.”

He measured out his aim and slashed the first stroke deep into the crest of her buttocks. _Swish-crack!_

“Ow!” she hissed, reaching back to cover her arse.

Snape grabbed her wrist. “Your hands stay on the table.” He returned her hand to its proper place. “Head Girls take their lines willingly. Did you still want to be teacher’s pet?”

The sting slowly died, leaving behind a spreading band of warmth. “Yes, sir. I want to be yours.”

He smiled. This was not Schoolgirl Hermione (despite the misleading uniform); this was Submissive Hermione. He hadn’t seen her in a long time. _Welcome back._ “Then write your lines like a good girl and show me how brave you are.”

Hermione nodded and went back to her parchment. _I will not hump the classroom chairs_.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Her eyes rolled back in her head, her pussy twitching with each bump of the cane. Swallowing hard, she did the next two lines. _I will not hump the classroom chairs._

 _Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap_. It was a ticking bomb, waiting to go off as reward for her obedience. _I will not hump the classroom chairs._ “I’m done, sir.”

_Swish-crack!_

“Unh!” She panted for a minute, staring at the scribbled lines swimming before her eyes. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ The metronome was back, reminding her the song wasn’t over yet. She looked down at her parchment in a daze. _I will . . ._  She had to check the previous sentence. _Not hump the classroom chairs. Right. No humping._ She smiled at the quill. It might write the words, but it didn’t know her promise was all lies. If he sat her in a chair right now, she’d probably come all over it. “Finished, sir.”

He lined up the next lick under the first two. Her arse looked gorgeous. Every time she sat down at work the next day, she'd remember this very moment. She’d remember him. _Swish-crack!_ Her cheeks wobbled with the impact, and a red line bloomed over both hillsides.

Hermione unlocked her jaw and let out a short huff of relief before resuming her writing. She wasn’t just wet now, she was delirious with fever. Her back was sweating and sticking to her shirt. She was glad her skirt was so breezy. “Done, sir.”

_Swish-crack!_

“Mmm!” She dropped her face to her hand and breathed through the sting. He was right there behind her, tapping out a friendly “I’m still here” in Morse Code. When the pain fizzled, she started her last set of lines. _I will not hump the classroom chairs._ She wondered if the chair at his desk counted as a classroom chair. Next time she went to Hogwarts, she was going to hump the hell out of it. “That’s fifty, sir.”

Snape marked out his last stroke and gave her a finale she wouldn’t soon forget. _Swish-CRACK!_

“OW!” Hermione didn’t reach back, but she dug her nails into the tabletop.

Snape nodded in approval. She’d kept her hands away and taken her caning without whining. He rubbed her bum for her, feeling the welts rising and falling like braille under his fingers. He longed to kneel down and lick away the pain for her, but they weren’t finished yet. “Now you have enough stripes to outrank your classmates. Should I have you come to the front of the class tomorrow and show everyone how much you want to be my Head Girl?”

Hermione closed her eyes as he traced each bar. He slid up and down the scale like a carnal composer. “Yes, sir.”

He smirked. She wasn’t intimidated by fake threats of exposure. “Good. Then you also wouldn’t mind spending some time in the corner in the front room . . . with the curtains open.”

Her eyes popped wide. “Uh . . .”

“But not yet,” he added with a grin. “You’ve still got the paddle. I think a good half dozen should leave a nice impression. Tell me again what lesson you’re learning.”

“I will not hump the classroom chairs, sir.”

“That’s right. If you start to get wet during class, I want you to raise you hand and tell me.”

Hermione smiled at the table. “In front of everybody, sir?”

“You want everyone to know how much you fancy my lectures, don’t you?”

She bit away her laugh. “Yes, sir. Please may I have the paddle. I want to prove I’m your good girl.”

Snape wiped the smile off his face and leveled out his voice. “That was a very good start. I really believe you want to please me.” He set the cane on the table and picked up the paddle. “I think you should take off your skirt. I don’t want it getting in the way.”

Hermione rose, getting her bearings after being bent over for so long. She unfastened her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Her knickers were still snug around her hips, framing the base of her bum in white.

Snape nudged her back with the paddle. “Bend over. Hands on the table. Count each one, and I want to hear a thank you after the sixth lick.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, bracing her hands on the table and preparing for the first blow.

He rubbed the leather over her heated backside, deciding how hard to hit her. _Her arse must be screaming from the cane._ He’d keep it medium hard. _Thwack!_

“Mm!” Her bum flared with heat. “One.”

_Thwack!_

“Two!”

He checked her cheeks, smoothing his hands over each globe to test the temperature. Her skin was roasted. Getting back in place, he measured out his swing again. _Thwack!_

“Ah! Three!”

_Thwack!_

“Four,” she panted. Her arse was throbbing now, a heartbeat of heat pulsing through her cheeks.

_Thwack!_

“Five!”

_Thwack!_

“Six! Thank you, sir!”

He tossed the paddle on the table. Palming a cheek in each hand, he rubbed away the soreness and spread her wide so she could feel the cool air caressing her crack. “That’s my girl,” he purred, giving her what she needed most—his praise. “I’m very proud of you. And your bum looks magnificent. I’ll let you rest now. Take off your shirt and bra and go open the curtains in the front room. Stand in the corner closest to the hall so I can watch you from the couch . . . and so the neighbors can see how naughty you’ve been.”

Hermione blushed, but she did just as he asked, stripping off her shirt and bra. It was a relief to get out of them; her entire body was burning up. She didn’t know what to do about her knickers. He hadn’t told her to take them off.

He saw her hesitation. “Leave those knickers right where they are. I’ll take them off when detention is over.”

Hermione nodded and whispered, “Yes, sir,” as she half-waddled into the front room. It was dark out, and she was worried everyone would be able to see her in the lamplight. Peeking around the curtain, she didn’t see anyone out in the streets. Maybe no one would look her way. She went to the corner and curled into it. Facing the wall like a petulant child was embarrassing, but it also gave her a chance to rest. 

Snape followed her in and sat on the couch, casting a silent blackout spell over the window. He didn’t really want anyone to see her. This was his favorite show, and he preferred to be an audience of one.

He’d retained her quill from the kitchen, and he absently drew it over his jaw as he watched her. Her arse was bloody gorgeous. He wanted to lay her down in the bed and bury his face between those crimson cheeks. He’d have to save that for another night. She wanted to be tied up . . . and he wanted to tie her up. He wouldn’t mind getting her some ropes if she was interested in making this a regular thing. He’d like to see her wrists bound in red nylon. Maybe some silk scarves. Black leather cuffs definitely. But she didn’t have any posts on her bed. They’d have to use magic unless they went out and got some under-the-bed restraints.

He waited five minutes then rose from the couch and went to stand behind her. Her naked back was calling to him. Slowly running his finger from the nape of her neck to the split of her cheeks, he followed her spine like a treasure map. “Now that you’ve passed the screening process, I think we should move into the bedroom. Do you know how I reward little girls who take the cane so well?”

She smiled and rested her forehead on the wall. “No, sir. How?”

“With this,” he purred, pressing the thick ridge of his erection to her scarlet skin. 

Hermione moaned as his wool trousers grated her bum like sandpaper.

Severus leaned down and ran his nose along the back of her ear. “I think it’s time to take off your knickers now.” His fingertips skimmed the sides of her hips. “Did you get these all nice and wet for me?”

Hermione nodded, clutching the wall for support.

He slid his hand around to her belly, gliding down to the top of her muff and teasing through her curls. “I could smell this cooking in the kitchen,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Mmmmm, sweet.” Snape eased her knickers lower, kissing the back of her neck and then slowly trailing his nose down her spine as he knelt to pull her panties to the floor.

Hermione jerked with pleasure as his hot breath puffed over each vertebra. When he got to her lower back, he kissed his way toward her tailbone, his tongue creeping out to mark the tip top of her crevice. Her skin went prickly with gooseflesh, and she arched her bum toward him for more.

Snape chuckled and licked the salt from her skin. “Let’s get you out of these wet things,” he whispered. Drawing her knickers down her legs, he tickled the back of her knee and smiled at her socks. Her knickers pooled around her ankles, and he tapped her foot so she'd step out of them. “That’s it. These are mine now, pet.”

Lifting her knickers to his nose, he inhaled her lust. _Sweet Circe._ His cock was about to destroy his zipper. Her knickers were so wet they were sticking to his face. The oasis in her gusset washed over his tongue like musky-sweet nectar. _Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_ Tossing her panties over his shoulder, he shoved her against the wall and buried his nose in her arse. Breathing deeply, he immersed himself in the glorious mixture sex and sweat which damped the dark heat of her hollow. _Dammit!_ Fuck the bedroom. He’d tie her to the wall. 

Hermione’s knees almost gave way as he breathed into her arse like an oxygen mask. There was nothing to hold her up but his face. It turned out she didn’t have to worry about staying vertical, because he slid right back up her body, pinning her hands above her head and wandlessly binding them in place. She looked up, but there was nothing to see. It felt as though silk cords were pulling her toward the ceiling.

Snape spun her around and grinned at her dilated pupils. She was even more far gone than he was. Yanking open his trousers, he pulled himself free and saw her eyes lock on his cock.

Hermione could almost taste him; that glint of dew clinging to his knob drew her like a hummingbird to sugar-water. Her pussy was leaking all over her thighs, leaving them soft and slick as silk. He pulled open his shirt, and her mouth watered at the sight of his pale chest. The dark hair smattering his pecs like a fuzzy shadow was the only contrast in a sea of white. His toffee nipples were just out of sight behind his shirt.

Severus left his trousers round his hips and pulled her flush against him. Her body was sweltering. He slid his hands to the base of her baked bum and lifted her up. Her eyes went wide with surprise and discomfort, but she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips to steady herself. The residual soreness would make the position a rough one for her, but he knew how to help her see past the pain. “Feel that heat, pet. Nothing takes the chill out of a winter night like a warmed backside.” Reaching between them, he aligned his cock with her dripping entrance. “You look so fucking gorgeous like that. Are you enjoying your restraints?”

She nodded. Her voice seemed to have disappeared.

“Is this what you want?” he teased, tapping his glans into her waterlogged labia. “That sounds like yes to me, but I need to be sure. Tell me what you want, pet.”

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. She felt like a badly-dubbed movie.

Snape’s lips twitched to a smile. “Just one word. Can you say yes?”

She nodded.

“Say yes if you want my cock. You’ll have to shout so I can hear you over all this pussy.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her larynx finally loosening.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sinking into her with one slow, slick thrust.

Her eyes rolled back, and she banged her head on the wall. “Unh!”

“Fuck!” Merlin’s bloody balls he needed that. Planting his face at the base of her throat, he sucked her thumping pulse between his teeth.

“Unnn-n-n-n-n-nh!”

He could feel her ragged cries echoing past his lips. Thrusting up into her, he tapped her depths. She must have fancied having his knob butt her cervix like an angry billy goat, because she dry-sobbed at the ceiling as if she were losing her mind. Leaving her throat, he went to her arm. It was offered up so invitingly. Licking his way to the shadowed hollow of her armpit, he breathed in the stark scent of her body. _Bloody hell, yes._ He wanted to devour her. She shivered against him when he lapped at the most sensitive spot.

He must have found some magic erogenous zone, because Hermione swore she could feel his tongue burrowing all the way through to her nipples. “Please, sir.”

“What, pet?” he muttered into her skin.

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered. “I’m so close.”

He grinned and fucked her a little harder, burying his face in her fragrant cove.

“Oh God!” Her core started to contract, and Hermione arched into him, convulsing in time with her pussy.

Severus grunted as she squeezed around him. He wanted to come with her. Getting a firm grip on her bum, he drove himself over the edge, staying right on her tail.

“Fuck!” Hermione cried. Her fingers clasped at nothing, searching for something to hold onto. The ache in her arse sent her orgasm in a wonderful new direction.

Severus hissed her name as he came, panting against her armpit as his balls spilled their load. He was glad she was safely bound to the ceiling in case he lost consciousness. He didn't know his body could produce such a massive quantity of semen.

They both unwound into a stupor of post-coital bliss, jerking with aftershocks as they came back to reality.

Hermione peeled her head from the wall and searched for his face behind the veil of his mussed, black hair. “My hands are going numb, sir.”

He looked up and cast a silent Finite Incantatem. He held her aloft with both hands and kept her propped against the wall so he didn’t have to pull out.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him as tightly as she could. Her arms felt like rubber. “Thank you, Severus.”

He raised one eyebrow. “You’re being rather familiar for a girl of your rank.”

She smiled. “We’re not done?”

“Oh no, pet. There’s a surprise for you in the bedroom. It seems chairs aren’t all you’ve been defacing.”

"What?"

“If you’re going to carve up my presents, I’m going to have to show you that, in this land, the Prince has the final say in all matters of justice.”

She suddenly caught on. “I love the paddle. I wanted to personalize it for us.”

“And the Prince wishes to do the same. Let’s go back to your room, and I’ll personalize your arse to match.”

“Yes, sir.” She had no idea what he had planned, but she was ready for more if he was. “Make me yours.”

He smiled, glancing at the quill he'd left on the couch. “I shall.”  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

“Severus what are you doing?” she giggled. “That tickles.”

“Stop squirming—you’re smudging my work.”

“You’re not using permanent ink, are you?”

“It’s just regular ink. I want this to last for at least a few days. Don’t scrub it off.”

“I won’t. What are you writing?”

“I’m signing my name on the dotted line.”

“You’re signing my bum?”

“I said stop squirming. I’m almost done.”

Hermione smiled into the bedspread. “How’s it look?”

He blew on the ink to dry it. “Outstanding. But stay still. I want to make sure it’s set.”

“Can I sign you next?”

“Most certainly not. I am not the property of the Gryffindor Princess.”

Her face dropped. He didn’t want to be hers. Maybe he’d just answered her real question.

“But if you’re nice, I’ll let you put your initials someplace inconspicuous.”

She smiled. “Your bum?”

He smirked. “I can’t see it there. Try again.”

“Your chest?”

He nodded. “That sounds fine.”

She would write her initials across his heart. Maybe they’d sink in and stay there forever.

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus lay in bed with her that night. Thinking. Although he couldn’t currently see it, _Property of the Half-Blood Prince_ had been scrawled across her arse in black ink. And just below it, his name branded her backside. He’d claimed her as his. In writing. The HJG she’d inked on his left pectoral was also impossible to see in this light, but he could still feel the press of the quill, somehow carving out his heart with a tickle. Her name was already embedded in every ventricle and chamber; she didn’t need to put it in print. But he fancied it nonetheless.

He knew she still had something else to tell him, but he wouldn’t press her about it. She didn’t like keeping secrets; she would confess soon. He was slightly concerned about what she might be withholding. Something that hard to say was bound to be bad news.

He would have gone looking in her mind for the reasons behind her strange behavior, but he was terrified of finding an answer he didn't want. If she didn't love him back, he didn't want to know yet. 

He wanted to live in denial a little longer.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione spent the entire week arguing with herself. He'd told her to be honest with him, but this was the one thing she held back. She needed to think before saying something so final. It could end badly. Or perfectly. She was so confused. If her mum had been around, she would have gone to her with something like this. She needed the advice of someone older, someone who'd seen these sorts of things play out before.

A brilliant idea suddenly occurred to her, and she slapped her palm to her head. _Of course_. Running to her room, she fetched a parchment and quill.   
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus,

Let's change things up and stay in Hogsmeade this weekend. We can build a fire and keep each other warm and cozy. Sound good? I'm getting off work early today, so I'll just come to Hogwarts. I'd like to visit Crookshanks's grave and see Hagrid and Minerva.

If you're not up for it, owl me back straight away. Otherwise, I'll pack my plug and my punishment panties and meet you after class. 

See you soon,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione,

That sounds pleasant. My last class lets out at 3:45. I'll see you then.

—Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Headmistress,

I'm coming over to meet Severus after school. I'd like to talk to you if you have time. I'm getting off work early, so I should be there soon.

Thank you,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione,

Of course I have time to talk to you. I'll be in my office. The password is still the same. I'll have tea ready.

Looking forward to seeing you again,  
  
Minerva  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione sipped her tea, smiling at McGonagall gratefully over the rim of the cup. "This is lovely. Thank you for seeing me."

"I love having you," Minerva assured her.

"I wanted to talk to you about Severus."

Minerva's lips twitched into a smile. Snape's mood had vastly improved since Christmas. Ever since they'd spilled the beans about their relationship, he'd been almost pleasant. She knew a man in love when she saw one. It was slightly bizarre that that man was Snape, but she was happy for him. "What about him?"

There was a knock at the door, and Minerva glanced over. "Who can that be? I'm not expecting anyone else. Just a moment, Hermione." She opened the door to find the Head Girl panting as if she’d just sprinted to the office. "Miss Blackwell? What's the matter?"

"Peeves," the girl gasped. "He's locked a whole bunch of first-years in Filch's broom cupboard on the third floor. They're screaming and crying and no one can get them out."

Minerva rolled her eyes, "Good heavens. I'll be right there. Tell them not to fret, we'll get them out." She looked over at Hermione. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Hermione smiled. "Go on. I'm fine."

McGonagall bustled out the door, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

"I wouldn't mind talking to you, Miss Granger."

Hermione spun around, smiling at Albus’s portrait. Abandoning her tea, she walked over to see him. "How are you, sir?"

"I can't complain," Albus smiled. "Life as a painting is far less complex than anyone could imagine."

The other pictures were watching her with interest, and Hermione waved to Phineas; he looked away, apparently still offended by her treatment of his portrait while on the run. 

"Minerva has told me all about your new boyfriend."

Hermione snorted and shook her head. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Hmm, that wasn't the impression I got when you were in here last time. Are things still going well?"

"He's wonderful. I just . . ."

"Yes?" he urged with a twinkling smile.

"That's why I came to talk to Minerva. I wanted someone else's opinion on Severus. Have you seen him lately?"

He nodded. "I have. In fact, I heard him humming in the halls the other night. You've certainly put a spring in his step."

Hermione blushed. "Then we're even."

"Was that what you wanted to know about Severus, that he's happy?"

"No. I . . . I've been thinking about . . . how he might react to how I've been feeling."

"How's that?"

"What do you think Severus would do if someone told him they loved him?"

Dumbledore's bushy white eyebrows rose toward his pointed purple hat. "What an interesting question. Would you be the person telling him this?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Then I think he will take it in stride. Severus hasn't had a lot of experience with love . . . well, not _shared_ love. It might take a while for it to sink in, but I think things can only be improved by your being honest with him."

"You don't think it'll scare him off?"

"I think he's more likely to be in disbelief. From what I've seen, he's transformed himself greatly over the years. He wants to be loved . . . but he's cautious. He's always associated love with pain. He's going to be careful until something solidifies this new reality in his heart."

"What do you mean?"

"Something will happen, possibly something earth-shattering or something completely benign. But whatever it is, it will make him see that his life is better with you in it. The concept of limitless love will take root and replace the pain his past. You grew up in a loving home and had friends who cared for you like family. Severus hasn't had that. He doesn’t think he deserves that kind of happiness. He’s just now beginning to see that your compassion knows no bounds. One day he will understand that your abundant heart contains him too."

Tears pricked her eyes. "He thinks I'll stop caring about him?"

"Possibly. But as long as you keep showing him how much you love him, he'll find his way."

Show him she loved him. How could she show him she loved him? 

"He just needs to build his strength," Albus mused. "Like a sprained ankle. He's not so damaged as he was, but he's still weak."

Hermione's mind was racing. She needed to find a way to tell Snape how she felt. Soon. The more he heard it, the faster he'd heal.

"One loving voice can drown out a sea of misery," Dumbledore said quietly, watching the wheels in her head turn.

A smile slowly spread over her face. "You're right. I have to go to the library. Please send Minerva my apologies."

She dashed out of the room, leaving most of the portraits with their mouths hanging open in bewilderment.

"What a rude girl," Phineas said with a sneer. "Imagine leaving like that in the middle of a conversation."

Dumbledore just smiled. "Nothing more needed to be said."


	13. Timing is Everything

Hermione was sweaty and sated. Their cozy weekend in Hogsmeade had been a success. They'd been shagging like rabbits since Friday. Now that it was Sunday, she was tired and sore. And happy. She'd figured out how to show him she loved him. She just needed some more information . . . and a lot of luck. She would wait until she was sure she could pull it off before she said anything. "Severus?"

"Hm?" he mumbled. He was lost in the satiny softness of her shoulder. Not petting her was impossible.

She could do a little reconnaissance before unveiling her surprise. "What would happen if a sub and dom fell in love?”

His brain was suddenly on red alert. Was she trying to tell him she loved him? The thought made him sickeningly giddy. He kept his voice level as he answered, hopefully giving her enough time to just come out and say it, "Their agreed upon relationship would come to an end."

Hermione's heart dropped. She'd been hoping he'd say anything else.

Severus waited and waited, but she said nothing more. His initial hope was squashed by her silence. She didn't love him like that; she was just asking. The pit of his stomach was suddenly too empty. Why would she ask such a question? She rolled away from him, and he put his hand on her naked back. "Are you ready to go to sleep?"

She nodded, confounded by his consoling touch after that cold answer. "I'm so tired."

He didn't want to seem needy, but this was his last chance to sleep with her until the next weekend. "Are you too hot? I can cast a cooling charm."

"Are you barking mad? It's bloody freezing in here."

He smiled. "Then why don't you come over here and get me warm?"

She was so confused. _Dumbledore said he’s still healing. Maybe he needs more time. Maybe I need to let him get used to the idea._ Maybe he needed her love but just didn't want to hear her say it. She turned over and rested her head on his chest. He kissed her forehead and brushed her hair back from her face. How could he be so tender with her but not want to hear that she loved him? _Stop it, Hermione. You're trying to apply logic to matters of the heart. You don't know why he doesn't want to hear it. Maybe he'll change his mind once you finish the potion._

Severus was bothered by her continued silence. She seemed to be thinking a great deal. Was she building up the courage to say something? Or should he just do it himself? Now wasn't the right time, but maybe soon he could find a way to tell her how he felt. Was there a way to say it without actually speaking the words? Once he rang that bell there would be no going back. He didn't want his confession to be their death knell. But if he could say it without words, he could protect both his heart and their relationship. "Goodnight, love."

Hermione winced. How could he refer to her so affectionately and have no stronger feelings for her? "Goodnight, Severus. Sweet dreams."

He smiled and doused the lights, leaving only the fire burning. "You too. I'll wake you up early tomorrow so you can get to work on time."

"Thanks."

"Are you going to kiss me goodnight, or do I have to steal that kiss?"

Hermione's face brightened, and she looked up at him. "You don't need to steal what's freely given."

He smirked and tipped up her chin, touching his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet as sugar, but his unspoken words left a bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione spent her entire lunch hour poring through research papers. She wasn't getting all the answers she needed. There was only one person besides Severus who might be able to help her. She'd have to swallow her pride and ask for his assistance.

_Draco,_

_If you're free after work today, I'd like to speak to you._

_—Hermione_  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Sorry, Granger. I've got a date with Miss Witch 2006 tonight, and I'm not going to be late because you want to discuss house-elves or book brokering. I'm free for lunch tomorrow though. Say noon at the canteen?

—Draco  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Draco,

Lunch is fine, but make it that Italian place a few blocks over. I don't want anyone to overhear us.

—Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Well now I'm intrigued. You're not planing a coup, are you? I'll wait for you by the Floos.

—Draco  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

Work was good today. How was your day? I got a new house-elf case, but it's not anything bad. His master died, and we're finding him a new family. Herbert and I are super busy scouting possible families. I'll write to you tomorrow when I have more time.

Miss you,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Dear Hermione,

I'm glad you got a safe case at work. I worry about you when you get difficult ones. Are you just going through forms to find a suitable family, or are you interviewing? Either way, I insist you stop hunching over your desk. That knot in your back is getting worse every week. If you'd just sit up straight, I wouldn't have to dig it out every time I come over. I don't like seeing you cringe and tear up when I rub your back. There are far more pleasant things you could be crying about when we're together.

Did you wear your plug to work today like we discussed? You didn't forget, did you? You'd better wear it tomorrow too. I can't stop picturing you dashing about the Ministry with that black ring peeking from between your cheeks. Do you feel it every time you sit down in a meeting? Does it remind you how deep my fingers got last weekend? 

It will now.

My day was decent. I'm still in one piece. Mondays always drag on. There's nothing to look forward to (except your letters of course). Friday seems so far away.

I miss you too,  
  
Severus  
  
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Hermione,

I found several of the books we talked about, but I'm still hunting for the Gilded Guide. I'll keep looking. Meet me tomorrow at lunch and I'll give you the ones I've found.

—Draco  
  
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Dear Severus,

I'm so sorry I didn't write you yesterday. I had to stay late at work, and I fell asleep as soon as I got home. I didn't even take a shower. I'm at the office now, waiting for Herbert. I'll write you again when I get home.

Plug in,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Draco,

Any luck yet? I'm at a standstill in my research.

—Hermione  
  
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Granger, would you relax? I told you I'd find it. Just give me a day.

—Draco  
  
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Dear Severus,

I'm so bloody tired. This week has been busier than I anticipated. My back is killing me. I'm about to go soak in that solution you brought over. I wish you were here to rub my back. It's been a long day.

I miss Crookshanks,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Dear Hermione,

What's wrong, pet? Is it work? You only mention Crookshanks when you're stressed. I thought you had an easy case right now. Is working with another house-elf bringing up bad memories? You know I'm still here for you. Tell me what you need. Do you want me to come over?

—Severus  
  
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_Dear Severus,_

_No, you don't have to come over. I'm just rushed off my feet. Tomorrow's Thursday. I'll see you in less than 48 hours. It doesn't sound as far away when I say it like that._

_—Hermione_

Snape tucked away her letter with a grimace and stared at the fire. Something was wrong. Every note he'd gotten from her that week had been bordering on perfunctory. Usually she couldn't wait to tell him about her day. They'd go back and forth, teasing the other with innuendo and outright filth. Then, as the time apart made them increasingly desperate, they'd proclaim their need for the other with the kind of heated prose only lovers can pen. 

But this was about as hot as a gazpacho.

Ever since Sunday night she'd been acting strangely. Had he missed something? Had he said something wrong? He couldn't think of a single sarcastic remark. She'd seemed hurt by his answer to her question about doms and subs falling in love, but he couldn't imagine how else he should have answered her. Why would two people in love require an agreement? They'd just be a regular couple. Love didn't need labels. Wasn't that obvious? Maybe he should have used the opportunity to admit his true feelings.

The worst part about all this speculation was he couldn't stand being separated from her; he missed her so much it hurt. It felt as though months had passed in the three days they'd been apart. He needed her letters to survive the week. But now she seemed to be avoiding him. Had something changed between them?

Was something going on with her? Something she wasn't telling him about? Why would she keep anything from him? He'd told her to be honest. He could take it.

 _You know why she's not being honest. She doesn't want to hurt you. She's too damn soft-hearted to say "I'm sick of you."_ That sounded most likely, but he couldn't understand why there was no deception when he looked in her eyes. He'd been with partners who'd lost interest before, and when one person wanted to leave, the physical contact became so strained and tedious it was obvious to even the densest of morons that it was time to move on. That wasn't happening here. All contact was still brimming with meaning. She meant it when she kissed him. He meant it when he shagged her. Before leaving the inn on Monday morning, they'd snogged each other senseless for fifteen minutes straight, barely able to tear themselves apart to leave for work.

None of this made sense.

Severus stayed on his settee, staring blankly at the fire until it was time for bed. He forgot to go to dinner. He wasn't hungry anyway.  
  
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_Hermione,_

_Found it. Meet me in the lobby after work._

_—Draco_

Hermione shoved the owl's note into her pocket. Once she had that book, she could go forward with her plans. Every free second that week had been spent searching old tomes and researching current papers to try to piece together her theory. If this worked, Snape would have tangible evidence of her love, something that would prove to him that the past was surmountable. He deserved an act of kindness straight from the heart. 

She'd had lunch with Draco every day that week. Letting him in on her plans had been necessary. She needed someone well versed in potions—who also had extensive knowledge of sex-magic. The rumor was that the Malfoys had the largest collection of books on the subject in all of Great Britain, and if the secretarial pool was to be believed, Draco had read every single one of those books. 

She'd given him a quick recap of her involvement with Snape (omitting the part about her ad), and he was the only person who hadn't reacted with open-mouthed shock to the realization she was sleeping with her ex-professor. For about two minutes, he'd stared at her as if he'd never seen her before; but after that he’d jumped on board, grilling her on what she'd read so far and making suggestions. As Snape's godson he was eager to assist, and Hermione was grateful someone else was willing to give Snape a helping hand.

"Granger!"

She smiled and hustled over to him. "Did you bring it?"

He pulled a dusty, greying book from his cloak. When she went for it, he yanked it out of her reach. "You _are_ going to bring it back, right?"

Hermione snatched the book from him, grinning ear to ear. "Yes, I'll bring it back as soon as I can. Thank you so much, Draco." In a fit of sheer delight, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

Draco blinked in surprise then awkwardly patted her back. "Okay, Granger. You're welcome. Now get off me. Somebody's going to see us."

She laughed and squeezed him tighter, burying her face in his chest just to embarrass him. "Thanks again, Draco. I'll tell you how my first attempt works out."

He smirked and shook his head. "Good luck, Granger."  
  
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Severus ducked behind the corner, watching her walk to the exits. He'd been visiting the apothecary in Knockturn Alley and wanted to stop by and walk her home. He'd been hoping to find out why her letters had been so distant lately. Now he had his answer. She was seeing Malfoy. 

He waited until they'd both gone before heading for the Floos. Malfoy? His own godson? The knife in his heart plunged deeper. This was a million times worse than anything he'd imagined. His gut rolled with nausea.

He couldn't blame her for wanting Malfoy. He was rich and handsome, two things Snape wasn't and would never be. Draco's sexual tastes ran in the same vein as his own, so he could see why she would be drawn to him. 

Draco had changed since the war too. She might have thought it was just for show, but Severus knew it was genuine. Draco had only ever cared about blood purity because his father had drilled it into him his whole life. The only things Draco really cared about were money and influence. After the war their family name was in disgrace, and Draco had been the one to rectify that. He'd used his remaining connections to get a job at the Ministry and, with a philanthropic flair, transformed the name of Malfoy from one of pureblood snobbery into one of repentance. Some people praised the change, but other people (like Hermione) assumed it was just an act. It wasn't an act. Draco wanted to let go of the past even more than Snape did.

 _I thought she couldn't stand him? How long has this been going on?_ Then he remembered the inscription in the book she'd given him. Was that it? Had she become closer to Draco while procuring his present? What was this, some sort of sick Gift of the Magi shit?

Severus Flooed to The Three Broomsticks and started for Hogwarts. He needed to walk and think. Everything made more sense now. Hermione had found a new dom. Draco would relish playing the part. He would spank her and fuck her the same way Snape did. He wouldn't hug her as well. That much was obvious from their little display at the Ministry. But he would learn. Draco knew how to adapt; he could charm the scales off a snake when he put his mind to it. Severus wasn't charming. This was a no-win situation.

A tiny part of him was happy she'd found someone who would give her the kind of life she deserved. She could move out of that ridiculously small flat and get some more food. And Hermione would be good for Draco. He needed someone who would keep him in line.

The sharp wind stung his face like needles, and he was glad the watery shine of his eyes would be dismissed as a response to the cold. Snape ducked his head into the high collar of his cloak as he plodded though the dingy sludge of melted snow. He'd been a fool to believe a witch like her would want to stay with a wizard like him. _Don't think that,_ he berated himself. _She cares . . . cared. You would have seen the lies in her eyes if she'd been deceiving you._

That made it worse. He'd had it all. And now it was gone.

Perhaps she had feelings for both of them and that was what had been confusing her. Maybe she wanted him to continue being her dom while she dated Draco. That was what he had expected when they first started seeing each other, that she would find a real boyfriend to take his place once she'd gotten the spanking out of her system. If that was what was happening, he had only himself to blame. He'd pushed the idea on her, assuring her she would find a suitable man in the future. Could he really continue playing his part if she was with Draco?

He didn't think he could stomach that. Knowing what they'd shared, remembering all the tears and smiles, hearing her voice screaming his name as she came. How could he just block that out? He didn't want to be her dom; he wanted to be the only man in her life. He needed her heart to belong solely to him. If she was his, he'd make sure she was immeasurably happy for the rest of his life. He just wanted what was best for her.

Was Draco best for her? Malfoy could give her everything she needed materially, but could Draco give her the kind of love he could? Would he hold her when she needed to cry? Would he stroke the back of her head until her eyes fluttered shut and she fell asleep on his chest? Would he have had a funeral for her cat? He didn't want to think about Draco doing any of those things with her. 

Severus passed Hagrid's hut on the way back and stopped to visit Crookshanks's grave. The dirt had settled down, leaving only small hillock. He brushed the snow off the stone, and sighed. "It's over, Crooks. She's moved on already."

"Perfesser?"

Snape looked back to see Hagrid coming around the side of the hut.

"Thought I heard someone out here. You all right? Y'look as though yeh've seen a boggart."

Snape nodded. Worse. He'd seen the truth.  
  
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Severus waited outside her door Friday evening. He would confront her when she got home and tell her he would let her go if she was ready to move on. He could feel the bile rising in his throat. Those words did not want to come out.

Hermione saw him pacing in front of her door as she came down the street, and she lengthened her stride to get to him faster. That book Draco had brought her had filled in the missing information she’d needed. She had a damn good idea what she intended to do, but she still needed to experiment. She'd pick up where she left off on Monday when Snape went back to school. For the time being, she was so bloody relieved to see him she almost started crying. Exhaustion had frayed her nerves.

Severus turned as she came down the walk, his stomach in knots. Her face burst into a smile when their eyes met, and Severus was blinded by the brilliance of it. She looked ecstatic to see him. As soon as she got through the gate, she raced at him like a runaway freight train, barreling down on him and jumping into his embrace. Reflexively, he caught her, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, knocking him into the door. 

Hermione squeezed him round the neck, grinning at his flabbergasted expression. She kissed every inch of his face, leaving his beautiful beak for last. He was staring at her as if she'd gone mad.

"I missed you so much," she whispered, resting her cheek on his shoulder and sniffing his collar. "Don't let me go."

Severus closed his eyes, biting his tongue to distract himself from the tightness in his throat. He must have been wrong. No one was that good of an actor. The joy was practically rolling off of her. She still wanted him. He'd been spared for at least another day. Maybe Malfoy was the one she was stringing along. That didn't sound like her, but he had no other explanation.

Hermione smiled as he kissed her temple. "Mmm, let's go in and take a bath. I need to get warm."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet.

"You can fuck me to sleep after that. I'm about to pass out right here on your shoulder."

"Are you feeling all right?" he whispered.

She nodded and nuzzled his ear. "Just tired. And tense. Shag me till I'm all better, okay?"

"Dr. Dick to the rescue," he murmured, kissing her neck.

Her breathy laugh melted the glacier of fear in his heart.  
  
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Hermione smiled and snuggled closer to him. She’d been restored by two nights of much-needed sleep. Plagued by nightmares during the past week, she was relieved to make it through the weekend without waking up in a cold sweat. Snape must have scared the boogieman away. He was her dream catcher.

Severus stared at her, watching her smile and blink her eyes closed like a sleepy kitten. They were cuddled together in her bed, neither one of them wanting to stray from their cozy nest of rumpled sheets unless it was absolutely necessary. All meals were eaten in the nude, with only a shared blanket protecting them from the winter chill of the kitchen. 

Severus had been comforted to hear about her week. She'd heaved the details of her case all over him like vomit, more than making up for her lack of communication during the week. There was no mention of Draco, and he kept what he'd seen to himself. Maybe he'd gotten the wrong end of the stick. That look in her eye was unmistakable. She was happy. With him. He knew better than to rock the boat.

Hermione wiggled closer and threw her leg over his hip, pressing her nose to his neck to get another hit of his scent. She was in heaven. Sight, smell, touch, and sound were all dominated by him. She just needed a taste to complete the experience. Sticking out her tongue, she lapped his Adam’s apple, which earned her a soft grunt. "Do you like that?"

"You know I do."

Hermione trailed her fingers down the column of his throat. He kept his concealment charm in place most of the time, but she hoped that one day those scars would be nothing more to him than a distant memory. She didn't want him to be self-conscious.

Hermione ran one fingertip along the border where his neck met the pillow. "Does your scar feel weird when I kiss it?"

He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. "No. It feels different than the other side, but nothing strange. There _are_ a couple spots where I can't feel anything at all."

She knew it was were Nagini's fangs had sunk in the deepest. "Will you take off the glamour?"

He raised one eyebrow. He didn't mind showing it to her (but just her, no one else). Wiping his hand over his skin, he whispered the counter-charm to dispel the camouflage.

Hermione reached out and traced the ragged edges of his scar tissue. "You don't have to keep this hidden from me."

Severus met her warm brown eyes. "I haven't got a lot of leeway when it comes to appearance. I want to put my best foot forward."

Hermione smiled and pushed his shoulder so he'd roll on his back. "You're bloody gorgeous, Severus. Why do you think I get all wet when I look at you?"

He grinned as she kissed his scar. "You're blinded by lust."

"No I'm not," she muttered, lapping the striated boundaries of new skin. "You're beautiful."

No one had ever called him beautiful. Her delusions were complimentary, but he was starting to question her sanity. "We'll have your vision checked tomorrow."

Hermione laughed. "My vision is fine. I just don't want you to hide anything from me."

 _Me? You're the one with the secrets_. "So you want me scars and all?"

She nodded, blowing over the shining paths her tongue had cut across his skin. "I'll kiss them every day if you'll let me."

His skin prickled in her breeze. "What about you? Are you going show me your scars and let me kiss them morning and night?"

She pulled back to look at him. "Do you want to?"

He ran his hand down the side of her face, grazing his fingertips over the downy hairs lining her cheek. "I want every inch of you, pet. Your scars are a part of you."

That sure sounded like love to her. Hermione glanced down at his arm. "I'll take off my glamour if you take off yours."

He would do anything she asked. Holding up his arm, he removed the last of his armor. He felt exposed and somehow even more naked; but she gave him an encouraging smile and held out her arm so he could wipe away her armor too. Snape vanished her charm and ran his fingers over the raised inscription. Mudblood. How untrue. Her heart was purer than anyone he knew. If he could take away that painful reminder for her, he would do it. He didn't want her to feel as if she had to hide any part of herself from the world.

Hermione lifted his arm and stroked the tight white patch. She would love him even if he were covered in scars. Pressing her lips to his forearm, she concealed it in kisses. 

His chest tightened as she nuzzled the mark of his failure. How could she shower his most gruesome feature with such affection? Was she not repulsed by everything it stood for?

"This is beautiful too,” she whispered, meeting his black eyes. “It reminds me how different you are now. You've been through so much, and I love the man you've become." That was a risky confession, but she needed him to know.

Severus stared at her. She loved the man he'd become? That was the closest anyone had ever come to telling him they loved him. "You make me a better man. I want to be everything you need."

She had to bite her tongue to keep from crying. "You already are."

Rolling her over so he was on top, Severus pinned her wrist to the pillow.

Hermione thought he was going to kiss her, but he kissed her scars instead, his hair tickling her skin as his lips skimmed over each letter, re-writing the slur until it had lost all its bite. He traced every line with his tongue then brushed his cheek back and forth over her arm, erasing the past with his caress. His fingers threaded between hers, and he pressed their scars together in a kiss of redemption. Their eyes met, and Hermione saw a soft light of tenderness warming his gaze. She smiled and used her other hand to draw him down, kissing his thin lips to seal some of that softness inside him.

Severus melted into her mouth; her tongue soothed the savage beast in his soul. Maybe she really did want all of him. Maybe he'd misunderstood that scene at the Ministry. Maybe life wasn't a minefield of misery after all.

Hermione ran her thumb along his. She wanted to get him as close to her as possible. It was time for another confession. Pulling back, she gave him a nervous smile. "Severus?"

"Yes, love?" he purred, brushing his nose over hers.

"I need to tell you what I've been doing this week."

He froze. _Oh shit._ He didn't want to hear it. Not now. Not when he was so happy. "You can tell me anything, pet."

She swallowed hard and bit her lip. "I've been playing with my plugs."

Severus relaxed. _Merlin's beard._ His heart couldn't take any more scares. "Have you? What have you been doing?"

"I've been wearing a plug every day to work like you told me to, but I went up to the next size on Wednesday."

A grin curled the corners of his mouth. "That's because you're a good girl who likes having her bottom filled."

She smiled. _You don't know the half of it_. "When I got home yesterday, I got out my old little blue dildo and . . . buggered myself until I came."

Severus stared at her. He couldn't believe she'd been so brave. Or that she'd done it without him there to watch. "You buggered yourself with Little Richard?"

She laughed and nodded. "I think we’re all informal enough now to call him Dick."

He smirked. "I want that memory in a phial before I leave."

"Why don't you just watch me right now?"

Snape quirked one eyebrow at her. "You want to show me right now?"

She nodded. "I want you to do it for me."

The thought of watching that blue phallus impale her tiny hole woke up his prick like a shot of espresso. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

Hermione nodded. "Just go slowly. Once I get past the head, I'm okay."

"I'll get the oil," he said, turning for the drawer before she changed her mind.

Hermione silently giggled at his excited expression. He was even more eager to see it than she was to show him. And that was saying a lot. She'd come in less than a minute during her practice run. Having her bum probed had been much more pleasurable than she'd imagined. It wasn't like penetrating her pussy. The feeling was totally different. But she fancied it. 

"Show me how you did it, love," Severus murmured in her ear as he set the dildo and oil next to her on the bed. "Did you get on your side?"

"No, I bent over my pillows and pretended you were spanking me first."

He grinned. "I want to see."

Hermione turned over and stacked up her pillows just like she did each night. Draping her hips over them, she got settled with her bum propped in the air.

Severus smoothed his hand over her backside, admiring the faded discoloration from her most recent spanking. "Do you want me to put in your plug first?"

"No. I like your fingers best."

He chuckled and sank down so he had a closeup view of her arse. Her skin smelled clean and fresh, like the soap she kept in the bathroom. Oranges and lemon. Her arse was a fruit cocktail. Opening the jar, he greased his fingers in oil and started to lube her entire valley. He wanted to encourage her anal bravery, and he knew if he made her love this enough, she’d add it to their weekend repertoire. Fishing out his wand from beneath his pillow, he aimed it at her rosebud and cast a cleansing spell.

Hermione shivered as her rectum tingled with magic. It felt as if he'd shoved a sprig of mint up her bum. When he chased that shot with one dexterous finger, she smiled and wiggled her hips for more.

Severus scooped out another dollop of oil and pushed it inside her pinched portal, smearing her walls in slickness. She hummed happily, and he gave her another finger. It was so hot inside. She was like a little oven. His cock was stiff against his thigh, jumping with excitement, impatient for the show to begin. Adding a bit more oil, he tried for a third finger. They sank right in, her sphincter shuddering around him like a twitchy tremor. She moaned loudly and circled her hips. She really was ready for more. He didn't think he could get his pinky in her, but he unbundled his fingers and gave her the full breadth of all three digits. Pumping gently, he watched her back for tension. There was none. She was loving it.

Hermione couldn't take much more of his careful teasing. Her pussy was about to turn her mattress into a waterbed. She needed it deeper. "Please, sir."

He smirked and kissed her left bum cheek. "Are you ready for Dick?"

"Yes, please."

"Let me get him ready." Severus reluctantly pulled his fingers from the snug warmth her arse and picked up her little glass dildo. It couldn't have been six inches long and maybe not even two fingers wide. The head would be her only obstacle. He spread oil over every inch of it and pumped his hand up and down the shaft to make sure it would slide easily. "Spread your cheeks for me, pet. Let me see that pretty bottom hole."

She reached back with both hands to hold herself open for him. "Be really careful, okay?"

"Have I ever hurt you here?"

"No, sir."

"And I'm not going to start now. I want you to love this, pet."

She breathed a sigh of relief and rested her cheek on the cool white sheets. "Thank you, sir."

He placed the head at her puckered opening. "I'm not going to push in. I just want you to get used to the pressure. When you're ready for more, bear down."

Hermione felt the cold glass snuggle up to her backdoor, nudging at her notch. The tip was slightly tapered, and it poked past the threshold. Her brain knew she could take it, but her body was still nervous. She just had to stop fighting it.

Severus gently stirred it in a circle, massaging her muscles so she'd relax. "Breathe deeply, love. Nice and slow."

She filled her lungs and then let the air seep back out.

"That's good," he crooned. "Breathe into your sphincter. Let it wash away the tension."

His voice was like a raspy hypnotist, lulling her into a state of acceptance.

"That's it. Does that hurt?"

"No, sir."

"You're opening up. Let it sink inside, love. Breath in . . . and out. In . . . relax . . . out . . . let your tension float away. Good girl."

Hermione bore down and the glass sank inside her a little more. She inhaled slowly, letting the air melt her resistance. _And exhale._

The head disappeared into her dark depths, and Severus almost started humping her leg when it popped inside. "You're past the thickest part," he told her, kissing her cheek again. "I'll stay still until you say you want more."

Her body sank in relief. "Just give me a few seconds to calm down."

Snape smiled. _I know what’ll calm you down_. Using his other hand, he traced her juicy folds. "Look at all this tasty cream. I'm going to have to clean someone's messy little pussy soon."

Hermione grinned. "With your tongue?" His finger tickled her clit, and she arched her back for more.

"MmHm. That _is_ the proper way to clean a pussy."

She couldn't help grinding into his finger. "Okay, you can go deeper now."

Severus put a little pressure on the base, and the glass eased inside. He'd never seen anything more spellbinding.

Hermione's eyes went wide as he slid two fingers into her pussy and curled them around, feeling for her g-spot. The fullness was fantastic. The sloshy sound of her front wall squished through the room like a parade of puddles. She dug her fingers into her cheeks as the pressure inside her swelled and churned. "Mmm! Please more, sir."

He carefully plundered her back passage, keeping the thrusts short and deep as he plugged the leak in her dripping sex. He could feel the hard weight of the glass pressing on the backs of his fingers, and he wondered if she'd ever be up for a threesome with him and Dick.

Hermione cried out as his fingers pumped away the last of her restraint. She backed herself onto the pike in her arse and rode it as the climax tore through her.

Severus smiled as her pussy pulsed around his fingers. Her orgasm shook the whole bed. It was one hell of a wet and wild show. He could watch her buck and shimmy like that all night long. 

Hermione sank against the pillows, out of breath and smiling with pleasure. "That was prefect, Severus. Don't pull out yet, 'kay?" Her voice sounded as raw as his. 

His thumb kept circling her trigger, drawing several tremors and aftershocks from her limp body. "Just push it out when you're ready." He released the base and let her muscles take over.

 _Well that went well_. She smiled to herself. Hermione took a deep breath and decided right then and there she was ready for the real thing. "Severus? Do you want to bugger me?"

He stared at the back of her head in shock. "What did you just say?"

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Do you want to bugger me?"

He was dumbfounded. They’d never even discussed the possibility. "Is that what you want?"

She nodded. "I've been thinking about it since the night you put that first plug in me."

He climbed up and lay next to her so he could see her clearly. She smiled at him, and Severus brushed her hair back from her face. "This is really what you want? With _me_?"

"Yes, of course with you. It's not like I want anyone else doing anything back there. I trust you."

She trusted him enough to deflower her arse. That was huge step—physically and psychologically. "You know I'm quite a bit bigger than Richard, don't you?"

Hermione breathed out a smile. "Yes, I'm well aware.”

“You want _me_ to take your arse for the the first time . . . _right now_?” he asked, just double checking.

“Yes. But only if you really want it. I want to give you something you want."

His brow furrowed. That was one of the strangest thing anyone had ever said to him in bed. "What does that mean? I want everything you give me."

"I mean . . . I want to give you something that nobody else has . . . that I've never given anyone else. You do so much for me, Severus. I want you to have all of me."

Drawing his fingers down her face, he stared into her eyes. "You're not too scared?"

Hermione shook her head. "I know you'll take care of me."

"I've thought about this so many times," he admitted.

That was what she wanted to hear. "Good. How many times have you done this before?"

He ran his hand down her back. "Several." He didn't want to cheapen the moment by coming up with an actual number. She'd get the wrong idea.

"Were they anal virgins or more experienced?"

"Most were experienced, but . . . a few were virgins like you."

Hermione had been hoping she'd be the only one. She wasn't giving him something special after all; he'd had it all before.

Severus saw the disappointment in her face. He understood immediately. "That was inaccurate. They _were_ virgins, but they were not like you. I have never been with a witch like you. None of those situations was anything like this." He kept his eyes locked on hers. He wanted her to see what he wasn't saying. He was practically spelling it out for her in big bold letters. "I want you. All of you. Every inch."

He had her. "I want you too," she whispered. How could he say things like that if he didn't love her? It wasn't just his words, it was the fire in his black eyes. Hermione smiled and reached down with one hand to run her finger along his length. He was rock hard, his twitching rod reaffirming his excitement.

Her hot little fingers danced over his shaft. He had to take a deep breath to stay focused. "If this is really what you want, then I'm going to make sure you love this like nothing else you've ever felt." Severus moved in closer and brushed his lips over hers. "Do you remember what I told you about keeping your options open and experiencing the bounty of flavors your body has to offer?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, tonight you're going to gorge yourself on devil's food . . . and so am I. Push out Richard. He’s overstayed his welcome. That’s my spot.”

Hermione laughed and bore down until the head popped free. "Okay."

Severus kissed her one last time then headed down south. He cleaned off her dildo and set it on the nightstand, planning his strategy as he settled between her spread legs. It was time to break out his secret weapon. 

Snape started by massaging the excess oil into her bum, gradually straying between her cheeks with each rub. When he felt her body melting into his touch, he strolled through her valley, leisurely brushing her rosebud. He still couldn't believe she wanted to do this. Anal play with her had always been just that, play. Like her tits, it gave him more options for driving her mad and making her climax. He enjoyed anal, but he'd never even considered suggesting it. She had been so nervous that first time he'd fingered her arse. Witches like that didn't usually want to go for full buggery even if they fancied a finger or two.

Part of him wanted this for strictly physical reasons (that part of him was currently jabbing the bedspread), but his brain and heart wanted it for entirely different reasons. No one had ever offered themselves up to him so completely. This wasn’t about conquering every available hole, it was about trust and acceptance. She wanted him everywhere. No holds barred. She was inviting him into her most protected space. He wouldn’t violate that confidence. He would give her arse the love it deserved.

Hermione was already humping the pillow. Her pussy was calling for all hands on deck, bailing out buckets of fluid to lure him to the leak. He must have been blind to her flooding, because he hadn’t touched her pussy since Dick's departure. The closest he came was her perineum, teasing her with a tickle just a millimeter from her engorged entrance.

Severus parted her cheeks and smiled at her cute little button; the kitten-soft hairs lining her arse were begging for a tongue-bath. The scent of her pussy sent him into an altered state. Tipping back his head to get a better look, he slid his hands lower and held open her lips. _Sweet fucking Circe._ Her folds had taken on a mirror shine. He ducked his head into her pool and went bobbing for her clit.

Hermione jerked against the pillow, moaning his name as he sucked her sex clean. All that waiting and denial had left her nub hyper-sensitive. Every taste bud on his slick muscle stood out in high relief. "Ah!"

He smiled and leaned back to check his progress. Shiny. She was dripping with arousal and saliva. He needed her at the peak of desire. The more turned on she was, the easier this would be for her—and it looked as if the temperature was just right.

Snape spread her wider and licked her from clit to caboose. She arched her back so hard she almost knocked him out with her tailbone. He put some more muscle into pinning her to the pillows and nuzzled her knot with his nose. The smell of pussy was everywhere, drifting back into her shadowed lane, filling her alley with the scent of caramelized cunny. Warm, gooey cookies couldn't hold a candle to the delicious decadence of her bake shop. His tongue crept out and swirled around her cinnamon roll.

Hermione's jaw dropped; she was panting like an asthmatic respirator. He took his sweet time, circling and lapping around her hole without hitting the bullseye. She wanted more, but she couldn't get her legs open any wider; and his grip on her cheeks held her immobile. "Oh God! Please, sir."

He smirked and stopped teasing, flickering his tongue right on top of her hole. He could feel her bearing down, her arse unconsciously reaching out for his tongue. Burrowing into her crevice like a mad dog, he devoured her the way he’d been dreaming about for months. It took all his strength to hold her down. She was squealing and kicking like a trapped rabbit, pleading with him for more.

His tongue slid up her arse, and Hermione shouted his name, mashing her face into the mattress to muffle her rabid moan. How could something so soft and wet penetrate her so deeply? He thrust in and out like a snake tasting its surroundings. Ginny was right, he definitely belonged in Slytherin. Thighs trembling, she bounced her clit off the pillow and tried to ride his face. "Severus!"

He knew that cry. She was close. He didn't want her to come until he was inside her. Pulling back, he let her rest. "I was wrong, pet. You taste like angel's food. That was heavenly."

Hermione panted into the comforter. Her brain had gone out to lunch. "Unh," she grunted, searching for the right words to express herself.

Severus grinned and placed a palm on each cheek. “Relax, pet. Let me see if you’re ready.” He spread open her anus with his thumbs, studying the gradation of brown to pink to red as her hole bloomed for him. Gorgeous. He lapped the edge of her cavern so she’d feel how open she was. "I think you're ready, love. How do you want to do this? Do you want to stay like that?"

"No, I want to see you."

He smiled and gave her arse a parting kiss. "I want to see you too." Sitting back, he slid his hand up her side and stroked her flanks. "Roll over for me, love."

Hermione rolled to one side, and he helped her shift the pillows around so she’d be comfortable. Settling on her back, she stared down her body, watching his erection bob and weave as he knelt at her arse. He was so hard his cock was eyeing the ceiling. She didn’t know whether to be scared by where all that strength intended to go or excited by his body’s response. Either way, her vagina was pulling out all the stops in its effort to alter his travel plans, reminding him that gushing waterfalls were waiting to pamper his cock at Pussy Paradise Inn.  

Severus stared at her for several seconds, reveling in the jiggle of her naked breasts and the jut of her rocky nipples. His eyes traveled down her body to gaze at her glistening gash. She looked like his little naked nymph, her hair wild on the pillows, her legs splayed for his arrival. Settling his hips between her legs, he told his cock to wait just a bit longer. He wanted to kiss her first.

Hermione gripped his shoulders as he leaned into her. She needed his kiss to calm her nerves. His tongue tapped its way into her mouth, and she welcomed it with hers, letting him lick away her worry. The heavy weight of his cock pressed into her clit, and she ground herself against its firm heat. A thrill of excitement shot through her core and landed in her stomach. This was really going to happen.

Severus kissed her until they were both panting. When he leaned back, he held her gaze so she’d know he was still right there with her. Spreading his legs, he sat on his heels and got as close to her as he could. His knees would be killing him later, but that was like complaining about a sore finger after catching the snitch at the Quidditch World Cup. Sometimes the prize made injuries seem non-existent. Both of them kept their eyes locked on each other as he hitched his hands under her knees and pushed them toward her chest. She got the idea and planted her palms on the backs of her thighs, pulling her legs so he could see everything.

The jar of oil was right next to him, and Severus scooped out a finger full and buttered her crack. She was going to be a greasy mess, but she wouldn't be in pain. This needed to go as smoothly as possible. He gathered some more oil and basted his cock. They were both glistening like candied apples. Pushing his buoyant knob down where it belonged, he nestled his glans between her cheeks. 

"You're going to feel stretched like you've never felt before," he warned her. 

Hermione nodded. "I know. Just go slowly."

Resting his thumb on her pussy, he strummed her glittering folds. "I'm not going to start until you say you're ready. Are you breathing slowly and deeply? I want you to do it just like you did with Richard."

"Okay," she whispered. She breathed in through her nose, letting her body fill with air; then she slowly let it leak back out, taking the tension in her body with it. After six more rounds, she felt a tingling spread through her limbs. "I'm ready."

"Keep breathing," he murmured. "Relax on the inhale, let yourself float on the exhale." Reaching down, he held himself steady as he put some pressure on her twitching tailgate. "I'm not going in yet. I just want you to get used to the feeling."

She nodded and kept breathing. It felt as if there was a junta at her backdoor ready to swarm her anus. She'd been fantasizing about this for months. At first it had just been an unlikely idea, but every time he fingered her arse or put in one of her plugs, the idea became more of a wish. She didn't think he was going to suddenly do something painful. That wasn't his style. He was all about pleasure . . . and discipline. She fancied that combination. He made her feel safe. Even when she was terrified—like right now. “I’m scared. Please talk to me.”

"We don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want it. Just talk to me till I calm down.”

“Okay." He knew what she needed to hear. “We’re going to take this nice and slow. If something hurts, you tell me and I’ll stop. I want your adorable little arse to love my cock.” Snape massaged her backdoor with his knob. “Do you feel that, love? He can't come in and play until you say the magic words. What do good girls say when they need something in their bottom?"

The tense line of Hermione's lips wobbled to a smile. "I've been a good girl, sir. Please fill my bottom."

"With what? A plug . . . a finger . . . ?"

"Please fill my bottom with your cock, sir."

He grinned. "What else has my naughty little girl been doing when I'm not around? Did you put in your plug and ride the Jolly Green Giant?"

She nodded, grinning back at him. "I bent over my pillows and spanked myself until my bum was sore, then I rode it like it was you."

"Did you like that?"

"Yes, sir. I was so full."

He smirked. "You haven't seen anything yet. What else did you do?"

Her grin widened. "I had an orgy with the Jolly Green Giant and Wellington."

Severus chuckled. "Did you? I want a phial of that memory too."

Hermione blushed. She didn't know if she wanted him to see all the crazy things she did when she was alone. Snogging her hand and humping the wall weren’t things she was keen to share.

"What is it, pet? What have you been doing that would turn your face so red?"

She'd tell him part of it and see how he reacted. "Wellington came in my arse. It was like sitting on a fountain."

Severus laughed. "Tirelessly pursuing cleanliness. Wellington's a good man."

Hermione laughed too, and Snape's greased head accidentally slid into her rectum as her body relaxed and bore down.

Severus froze, watching her face for signs of panic. Her eyes were wide with shock, but she wasn't struggling or pulling away.

Hermione held her breath. There was slight burn, but mostly she felt as though he had shoved a snitch up her backside. His warnings of fullness were warranted. It was both bizarre and exciting. She wasn't in pain, but she was scared.

"Do you want me to pull out?"

She shook her head. "Just stay still."

Severus kept stroking her clit with his thumb. "I'm not going to move, pet. You need to stop squeezing the sheets so tightly. You're not relaxed. You're breathing, but you're not letting go. Remember, inhale relax . . . exhale float."

Her muscles unclenched, and she released the bedding.

"That's it," he purred. "Touch your tits for me. Tease yourself."

Hermione smiled at him and brushed over her stiff nipples, shivering as a tingling jolt coursed through her. That was nice. She stared up at him, calmed by how perfectly motionless he remained. His nostrils were flared, and his eyes were searing her; but he was ready to stay exactly where he was no matter how long it took. That soothed her faster than anything else. He was in control even if she wasn't. 

Severus studied her face. She was so bloody beautiful when she was turned on. Her eyes were glued to his, and he felt as if she were seeing straight through to his soul. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest at the exposure. This was not at all how he had felt when buggering those other witches. She was somehow penetrating him as much as he was penetrating her. 

"You can move," Hermione said with a nervous nod. "I'm ready."

The deeper he delved, the more his heart opened. This was overwhelming. He was getting dizzy. But he didn't want it to end.

Hermione tried to keep her breathing slow and even, but his cock rooted out a new moan with every inch. Now that he was moving, it was somehow easier to take. The initial discomfort was transforming. Her insides were being rearranged. Full did not begin to describe what she was feeling. It was exciting and frightening. How deep could he go? How much more could her body contain? Did those other witches he'd buggered have arseholes made of rubber? She was on the verge of explosion. He seemed to hit a wall inside her, and she gave him a confused look.

"This is as deep as I can go right now," he said soothingly. "Your body might relax enough for me to go deeper but probably not this time. Do you want me to rest or move?"

"Um . . . move, but not _too_ much."

Snape couldn't help smiling. He understood. Staying deep, he gently rocked into her.

Hermione moaned as two of his long fingers slipped inside her pussy. She was going to burst. There was no more room in her body. He prodded her front wall, and she felt the ache immediately. If he hadn't been playing the greatest hits on her clit, she doubted she'd be so close. This was more of a bombardment of sensation rather than a pleasant ride. Sinking her nails into her legs for traction, she attempted to surf the growing tidal wave churning in the center of her body. Her abdominals stuttered to stone then calmed. Stone. Calm. She couldn't stop it. There was an impossibly long moment where she was a second away from coming, but he somehow drew it out until time stood still, suspending her in the tractor beam of his gaze. His eyes were like black diamonds, cutting her open and ripping out her heart. She felt the fretful trembling in her belly; her orgasm was about to tear her apart.

Severus briefly celebrated as she shouted his name. After that he was gnashing his teeth, fighting the fervency of her spasmodic sphincter. Her juice streamed down her crack, which wetted his entry even more. This was heaven and hell all rolled into one. If he hadn't been hoping to hold off, it would have been a release of epic proportions. Instead, he was left resisting the angelic ascendancy of her convulsing body.

Hermione couldn't take her eyes off him. She saw the concentration pinch his face as she came, but still he maintained the going rhythm. There was no interruption in service. Only his fingers slowed as she came down, matching the pulsing of her pussy. Her head was foggy with satisfaction. She wanted to keep him in her arse forever.

Severus smiled when he saw that look in her eye. "Are you ready for more?"

"Yes, sir. It feels good now."

He chuckled and gave her pearl a slow polish. Her nectar had run down his balls, leaving a wet trail that made him want to tap his sac against her arse to hear the splash. This had to be the wettest maiden voyage in history. "I want to lie against you. Can you keep that position a bit longer?"

Her smile was giddy. "Yes, sir."

He settled onto his hands, leaning down to give her an intermission kiss. "Stop calling me sir. You're making me feel as if this is buggery detention."

Hermione snickered and slid her hands around his back. "I would love that detention."

Snape smirked and let his thrusts find an easy beat. Her knees were almost in his armpits, so he shifted around and hooked his elbows beneath them to help hold back her legs. The mild restraint of the position must have tripped an avalanche inside her, because her eyes went even darker, and her hips started to grind like a corkscrew. "Do you like that?"

She nodded. "You feel really good. This isn't as scary as I thought."

He leaned down and kissed the center of her sweaty forehead. It might not have been as scary as she'd thought, but she was still working hard. "Your arse is a fucking miracle, love. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

That made her smile. "I want you to come deep inside me," she breathed. "I want to feel it all night."

Her eager commentary was maddening. His cock suggested he pound her until she bawled in release. His brain scoffed at the idea, belittling such selfishness. His heart wished they’d both shut the hell up and kiss her. 

"Will you put in my plug when we're done so I can keep your come inside me?"

His hips rocked faster, spurred on by her suggestion. "Anything you want."

The increase in speed was like a drug. Her body was suddenly rushing, her blood pumping, her heart thumping. Everything was rolling though her like a chugging locomotive. Severus was right there, in her hands, his body warm and safe atop her. He wasn’t going to let anything bad happen. She hugged him tighter, and his growl rattled her teeth and twat like a vibrating engine.

Severus was so out of it he couldn't even remember his own name . . . or his profession . . . or where he was. He needed to come. "Are you close?"

She nodded. “A little faster.”

He pressed his lower belly to her talkative clit and added and extra rub to her nub. She was coating him in her cream, smearing it all over him like a pussy paintbrush. Sealing his mouth against hers, he cajoled her tongue with his, urging her to follow her instincts and fuck his mouth. She did. Suddenly he was on the verge of blowing. His balls were trying to choke him.

The full Severus experience assailed Hermione all at once. She didn't know which sensation to listen to: the dull thump of pleasure in her arse, the steady building crescendo in her clit, or the tingling crackle of adrenaline popping over her skin.

Her body jerked several times as her climax caught hold, and she moaned into his mouth. It was like an engine turning over, sputtering, and then roaring to life. Snape couldn't withstand that kind of combustion. He returned her moan, bumping his pelvis against her bum as his balls pulsed with relief. His cock was throbbing; his seed shot into her so hard he thought it might spout out her ears. He was left panting and shaking, his entire body ringing with the reverberations.

Hermione smiled and pulled him closer. He flopped his face into her hair, and she stroked his neck to help him calm down. "Thank you, Severus. That was perfect."

An exhausted smile crossed his lips. "No, pet. I should thank you. No one's ever dismantled my balls in such a pleasant fashion before."

She grinned and kissed his jaw. "Can we do this again soon?"

"Whenever you fancy.”

"I can't wait till next Friday. Why do the weekends go so fast, but the week feels like a fortnight?"

He was glad it wasn't just his imagination. "I don't know, pet."

"I wish you could stay with me every night."

That sounded like heaven. He carefully pulled out and then slid onto his side to face her. "Let's take a nap, love. I can barely keep my eyes open."

She glanced at the clock. "It's only 5:52."

"Bedtime," he confirmed. 

Giggling, she draped her arm and leg over him and snuggled close. 

Severus locked her in his embrace. He needed the pressure of her body to stanch the trickle of love leaking from his heart. How did piercing her arse with his cock leave _his_ chest feeling reamed? His breastbone had been cracked open to let the pain escape. It hissed out of him like steam from a pressure cooker, leaving him lighter and brighter.

He didn't know how to tell her that. But if her smile meant the same thing his did, she already knew.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __ 

Hermione came home every night that week and devoured the book Draco had brought her. She turned her kitchen into a makeshift lab and started her experiments. 

Creating a potion no one had ever made before was even harder than it sounded. Since she'd finished uni, she hadn't done anything more difficult than brew her own birth control. It was hard to get back into the swing of things. 

She collapsed into bed every night (on time) and promptly fell asleep. Her eyes were going all bloodshot, and she was getting a crick in her neck from hunching over her cauldrons.

But she was getting closer to a solution every day. Just a little more time, and she’d have it.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus paced the empty halls of Hogwarts, racking his brain for an answer to her sudden silence. Every letter she'd sent him that week had been shorter than the last. Detached. Rushed. Almost cold. Which seemed even colder after the scorching intensity of their last night together. He could only draw one conclusion—she _was_ hiding something from him. Maybe that night hadn't meant as much to her as it had to him. Maybe he'd wanted to believe that she cared about him so much that he'd ignored some warning sign. Maybe she was seeing Draco on the weekdays when he wasn't there. 

He couldn't reconcile that thought in his head. It didn't match up with the way she acted on the weekends. That last night with her had been one of the best nights of his life. And he was almost certain that she had felt the same way. Why hadn't he just invaded her thoughts? He wouldn't be tearing out his hair now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Using Legilimency on her wasn't a route he wanted to go. It was invasive, and it hadn't seemed necessary with a girl who was so honest. She thrived on spilling her guts.

"Rough night, my boy?"

Severus turned to the portrait of Albus that hung in the entryway. He was sitting behind his old desk, folios and stacks of ink-blotted parchment strewn around him like fall leaves. The painting had been placed in the main hall to welcome the students with a familiar face; Portrait Albus spent more time chatting with the students than he did with Minerva. There was a painting of him at the Ministry too. He had his finger in all kinds of pies. "I'm fine."

Albus gave him a skeptical look as if he didn't believe that for a second. "How are things with Miss Granger?"

Snape sighed then looked around for any witnesses. Seeing none, he shrugged. "I honestly have no idea."

Dumbledore's beard drooped in concern. "Has something happened?"

"She's acting oddly," Snape muttered. "I can't figure her out. And . . ."

"Yes?" Albus prodded quietly.

"I think she's seeing someone else."

"Nonsense!"

Snape stared at him in surprise. 

"Your imagination is playing tricks on you, Severus. Miss Granger wouldn't cheat on you."

"I saw her with him."

"You saw her where, with whom?"

"At the Ministry with Draco. She had her arms around him."

"In a sexual manner?" Albus asked in disbelief.

"What other manner is there to grope someone in public?"

"Perhaps they're just friends. I would stake my reputation on the assertion that Miss Granger is not cheating on you with Draco."

"You didn't see them," Severus muttered under his breath.

"I don't have to. Severus, listen to me, that witch cares about you. With all her heart."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because she told me. She was here two weeks ago asking me if I thought you could ever fall in love."

Snape's heart leapt to a sprint. He had to swallow it back down. "She did? What did you say?"

Dumbledore's expression softened. "I told her it might take you some time, but your ability to love had not been lost."

"What else did she say?"

"Hmmm," Dumbledore mused, twisting his beard between his fingers. "She left very suddenly, seemingly inspired by something I'd said. I assumed she had divined some way to show you how much she cared about you. I take it she hasn't revealed some earth-shattering idea that would make you declare your feelings for her?"

He wondered if that's what the anal sex had been about. Was she seeing if he would finally tell her the truth once she gave herself to him so completely? Had her question about subs and doms falling in love been an opening? Was she just waiting for him to go first? Had she turned to Draco when he hadn’t admitted how he felt? "I think I've made a mistake."

"Mistakes can be redressed," Albus assured him. "I'm sure she'll forgive you. Especially if your penance is an honest declaration of your feelings."

"I'll tell her this weekend. Or maybe I should write to her right now." 

"I think you should tell her in person. This is too important to reveal in a letter, and everyone deserves a grand gesture of love. Be honest with her, Severus. Miss Granger is the kind of witch who needs a heart she can call home."

Severus stared at the old man, repeating the words back in his head. A grand gesture of love. A heart she can call home. Albus's blue eyes twinkled like icy diamonds behind his spectacles; the scribbled notes on the desk reflected in the gold rims so they appeared engraved. A sudden flash of understanding zapped Snape's brain. He knew what he had to do to prove his love. He just wasn't sure how to proceed. "You're right. Thank you, Albus."

Dumbledore watched the Potions master run off just as quickly as Hermione had. "Let me know how things turn out," he called after him. 

Snape waved one hand in acknowledgment. This might be his only shot to win her once and for all.

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

_Dear Hermione,_

_I have to leave on an unexpected, but brief, trip. I won't be here this weekend. I am so very sorry. You have no idea how much I miss you. Hopefully I'll be back Sunday night. Monday morning at the latest. I'll write you the moment I return._

_Again, I'm so sorry to leave you like this,_  
  
_Severus_

Hermione sat down at her desk, devastated. The office buzzed around her, but she was lost in her own world. Was he really going on a trip? Without her? _Don't be selfish, Hermione. Just because you drag him around the world to be with you, doesn't mean he wants to do that too._  She couldn't help wondering if he was upset with her. His letters had sounded strange that week. Was he uncomfortable with how close they'd gotten? She shouldn't have been so clingy. There was only so much neediness a man like Snape could take.

She went to the loo and cried for five minutes then pulled herself together and made up her mind not to dwell on it yet. If he was sick of her, she'd have plenty of time to obsess later. There was one good thing about him not coming to her flat: she would have the whole weekend to work on the potion uninterrupted. This was her chance to really concentrate. _Please don't leave me before I can figure this out._

Slipping on her cloak and grabbing her notes, she headed home to her empty flat.


	14. All I Need is a Miracle, All I need is You

Severus managed not to stumble as he wove through the dungeon. He couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds, but he didn't need to see where he was going to navigate the familiar halls. Unwarding his office, he went through to his private quarters and closed the door behind him with an exhausted sigh. "Incendio."

The logs in the hearth burst to a flame, and he fell into his chair by the fire. He was minutes away from sleep, but first he had to let her know he'd made it back safely.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione shuffled into her kitchen Monday morning. The weekend had been a struggle, not only because of her experiment but because she was so bloody lonely. She wondered if Snape was back yet. Flipping on the light, she jumped when she saw the dark owl perched on her table. "Where'd you come from?"

"Hoo," he replied and pushed the letter forward with his beak.

Hermione glanced at the open window. Hermes wasn't back yet. Grabbing an owl treat from the cupboard, she sat down at the table and let the visitor snack while she read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I just got back. It's 4:42 in the morning. I'm going to get a couple hours sleep before classes start. I almost came to your flat, but I didn't want to scare you in the middle of the night. I need to see you. When are you free? Tonight? I have rounds tonight, but I could come over right after you get off work. I couldn't stay very long, but at least we could see each other. Send me back your answer with this owl._

_I miss you,_  
  
Severus

Hermione sighed in relief. He seemed pretty eager to meet, so maybe she'd been wrong about him avoiding her. She wanted to see him too, but she had all of her potion-making supplies strewn about the kitchen. If he came over, she'd have to hide it. She just needed two or three more days. Another problem was she already had plans that evening. She scrubbed her face with her hands to try and clear her head. _Damn_.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus, 

I missed you so much this weekend. I have a Ministry dinner after work, so I'm not going to get home until tonight. What about tomorrow? Maybe we can go out to dinner or something.

You should have woken me up. I was having a nightmare anyway.

I miss you more,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Hermione,

You could not possibly be missing me more than I miss you. I'm getting carpal tunnel in my right hand. And I don't remember how to function without the sting of scratch marks scoring my back.  
  
I can't come over tomorrow. The Potions Club is meeting after school, and I have to be there. Then I have a faculty meeting and rounds.  
  
What about Wednesday? I can be over by the time you get home, but I have to get back to cover for Flitwick.

Send me a pair of your knickers so I can remember what you smell like.

Suffering from pussy withdrawal,  
  
Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

Bugger! Wednesday I have to take our house-elf case to his new home and get him settled in.

I'm starting to think we're cursed until Friday.

I wore these knickers all day for you,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Hermione,

Sweet Circe's squealing swine! Were you masturbating in the loo every hour? These are sopping. Are you at dinner right now with no knickers? Naughty girl. I think I'll skip the Great Hall tonight. I've suddenly remembered how much I need to sit in my room and wank to the scent of your sex.

Write to me tomorrow,  
  
Severus  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Hermione exited the restaurant's tiny lavatory and headed back to the private room where the Ministry officials were discussing work over their T-bones and chicken cutlets.

"Granger."

She whipped around.

Draco stepped out of the shadows with a smirk on his pale, pointed face.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm on a date. She's taking me back to her place for dessert.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I just wanted to know how your potion's coming along."

Hermione looked around to make sure they weren't being spied on. "I'm stuck. It's so close, but I know it isn't right yet. I’m certain it should be changing colors, but it isn't."

Draco nodded. "How about if I come over on Thursday and take a look at it. Maybe we can come up with something."

Hermione smiled. "Come over with me after work. If I can figure it out that night, I'll be able to give it to him on Friday."

"I'll be there." He looked over his shoulder. "I'd better get back."

"Me too. See you Thursday."

"Later, Granger."  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Hermione,

Classes were dull today. It was a good thing I had your knickers in my pocket to keep me company. Everyone's bound to think I have a cold with the way I kept them pressed to my nose. You smell so much more pleasant than shrivel figs and slug slime.

I can't wait to bury my nose in the real thing,  
  
Severus

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Severus,

You didn't seriously have my knickers out in class, did you? And you call me naughty. I just got home, and I've got some work to finish. I'm so busy lately. I keep forgetting to lie over my pillows at night. I think you're going to have to give me a nice long spanking this weekend so I don't forget again.

In need of a red bum,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Hermione,

I most certainly did have your knickers out during class. How else am I supposed to make it through the day? Man can't live on oxygen alone.  
  
I'm ready to turn your backside crimson this weekend. I'm picturing you over my lap right now. Does your juicy little cunt need a spanking too? Or does it just need a kiss? Spread your legs right now and rub your clit for me. I need another pair of panties to wear as a face mask tomorrow.

Good girls send creamy knickers to their favorite professor every day,  
  
Severus

__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus! I'm at work. Be good.

Stop tempting me,  
  
Hermione

P.S. I don’t think McGonagall wants my creamy knickers.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Dear Hermione,

I know you're at work. And I know it's just making you wetter to spread your legs in public. Are you wearing a skirt today? Is it hiked up to your hips? It’d better be.  
  
No one can see what you're doing behind your desk. Pet your pussy for me and tell me what you're thinking about.

Hard and thinking of you,  
  
Severus

P.S. You’re getting the cane for that last dig.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus,

I am not behind my desk. I'm in a meeting. And now everyone's staring at me because I can't stop blushing. Stop sending me dirty letters.

I'll write to you later,  
  
Hermione  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm sorry. I didn't get you in trouble, did I? I'll make it up to you very soon. In fact, I'd like to make it up to you tomorrow. Are you free?_

_Repentantly yours,_  
  
Severus

Hermione winced. Draco was coming over the next day. She really needed his help. But she wanted to see Severus. _Bollocks!_  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

_Dear Severus,_

_I'm sorry, but I'm really busy tomorrow. I'll see you on Friday though, and you can apologize until I come all over your face. Here are some knickers to tide you over._

_Inhale relax, exhale float,_  
  
Hermione

Severus smirked at her sign off and pressed her ivory-colored underwear to his nostrils. He had one hell of a surprise for her. He just had to finish some brewing that night. If all went well, she would be his before the sun rose Saturday morning. 

And he would be hers.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus had to wait until classes ended the next day before he could finish his preparations. 

Everything had gone according to plan. He couldn’t wait to see her face.

He strode down the road, success buoying his step. This was too big to just sit on; he needed to go tell her straight away. She couldn't be busy all night, could she? She would want to hear this as soon as possible.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Draco sat at her kitchen table, listening closely as she described everything she'd done with the potion to get it to that point. He was amazed she'd come as far as she had. This was genius.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her scalp with both hands, trying to stimulate her brain. "And that's it. I don't know what else to try. Don't you think it should be changing colors?"

He nodded, dazed by the influx of information. It took him a few seconds, but he finally gathered his thoughts enough to speak. "This is—"he didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't deny her intelligence—"bloody brilliant. Do you know what you've done?"

"I haven't done anything," she said with an exasperated sigh. "It's not right yet."

Draco ran his hand down his face, but he couldn't hold back his smile. "Yeah, and I know why."

Hermione sat up straighter. "You do?"

He nodded. "You're missing a key ingredient."

Her eyes darted over the phials and cauldrons littering the kitchen. "What?"

"Time."

Her brows scrunched together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Tell me, Granger." He plucked the phial of her "secret ingredient" from the tray and held it up to the light. "When Snape fucks you, does he just cram it home all at once?"

Hermione glared at him. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything," he replied, tipping the phial so the fluid ran back and forth. "Creating a potion is like sex. You have to read its signals like a lover. You don't just throw all the ingredients together like a sloppy shag in a broom cupboard, you have to wait for _just the right moment_ to add _just the right_ ingredient."

Her face went slack. _Of course._

"You're adding this too soon. You need to let it heat longer. Bring it to a boil; then when it’s about to spill over like Saturday night pussy, you can toss in the pièce de résistance for the win."

She slapped her forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Bloody hell, Granger. I think you did enough just getting this far. If this works, are you going to submit your findings?"

"I hadn't thought of that. I guess I should. It might help somebody else."

"You know this is only going to work if his heart wants you just as much as his balls do."

She nodded, smirking at his lascivious expression. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"If I were you, I'd—"

_Knock Knock Knock._

They both looked in the direction of the front door. Hermione started to climb out of the potion debris surrounding her seat, but Draco waved her off.

"I'll get it."

Draco crossed through her sitting room and pulled open the door. "Severus!" He hoped he'd said that loudly enough to get her attention. He knew she was trying to surprise Snape with her creation. "What brings you here?" _Besides Granger's pussy._

Snape's heart dropped through his stomach; his world crashed down around him. She _was_ seeing Draco. Her "really busy" excuse had been an attempt to let him down gently. He should have come to her immediately after talking to Albus. Now he was too late. Draco was already marking his territory. She came into the front room, bursting into a grin when she saw him. She didn't even have the decency to look guilty. 

"Severus! It's only Thursday. What are you doing here? Wait." She stopped in her tracks and looked at Draco. "This _is_ Thursday, _isn't_ it?"

Draco snickered. "Last I checked."

Hermione smiled, reaching for Snape. "Come in. Don't stand out in the cold."

He shook his head. If he was about to be made redundant, he had to give her this last gift while he still could. "I need you to come with me."

She couldn't tell if he was being romantic or just eccentric. He looked a bit ill. "Where're we going?"

"I'd prefer to show you."

"I'll get my cloak."

Draco picked up his grey herringbone traveling cloak from the arm of the couch. "I'm taking off, Granger. Owl me if you need anything else."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks for your help, Draco. I'll let you know how things go."

Severus had a sickening feeling they were speaking in code. 

As Draco passed Snape at the door, he nudged him discreetly in the back. "We _have_ to talk next time you come to the manor."

Severus nodded once. He didn't think he could stand to be in the same city as Draco let alone the same house. Thinking about what they might have been doing before he arrived made him want to retch.

Hermione stepped outside with Snape, stashing her wand in her pocket after warding the door. "Am I dressed all right for where we're going?"

He turned away, unable to bear the thought of letting her go. "You look perfect."

Hermione caught up with him on the walk. She slipped her hand around his arm and smiled up at him. "I just ate a sandwich an hour ago. I hope you're not taking me to dinner."

He shook his head. How could she just switch from Draco to him as if it were no big deal? 

They made it to the Apparition point, and he looked down at her. Was this the last time they would be this close? "Are you ready?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him and pressing her cheek to his heart. He was all wooly and itchy, but she hadn’t held him in so long. "Ready."

He closed his eyes, hugging her in return and swallowing around the tight lump in his throat. He whipped his wand in a wide circle and Apparated them to Gishing’s Grove. They popped up in a skeletal copse of trees behind a brick house.

He led her out to the road, and Hermione looked in all directions, trying to figure out where they were. Night’s darkness shrouded the surroundings in a confusion of shadow, so at first her only guideposts were the streetlights. But then the picture clicked into focus and she knew where they were. She didn't like having the past sprung on her out of the blue. "Severus, this is my old street. Why have you brought me here?” McGonagall had helped her keep the house, but she couldn’t stand to live there on her own.

Snape didn't say anything, he just led her up the walk to her childhood home. When they got to the front door, he ran his wand over the lock and let them in as if he owned the place.

Hermione reluctantly followed him. She hadn’t been prepared for a shove down memory lane. The smells of her youth assaulted her like a security blanket that had gone rogue and now sought to smother rather than comfort. Snape turned on the lights, and she gasped, covering her mouth with one hand at the sight of her parents' limp bodies sitting on the sofa. Her head started to spin. "What's going on?”

"Rennervate," Severus murmured, waving his wand toward the couple.

Hermione's mother blinked a few times, and her father snorted the way he did when waking from a dream. She stared at them as if they were waxworks coming to life.

Mrs. Granger covered her eyes and yawned then stretched both arms above her head and squinted into the light. "Hermione? What are you doing here, dear? Emmet, wake up. Hermione's home. We fell asleep."

Mr. Granger rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly. He looked back and forth between his wife and daughter then shook himself awake like an aging hound dog. "Hermione's home? We weren't expecting you, darling. I don't think I even have anything cooked."

Hermione's knees gave out, and she fell to the floor, sobbing and clutching stomach.

A dazed Mrs. Granger dashed over as fast as her stiff legs would carry her and knelt beside her hysterical daughter. "What is it, love? What's the matter?"

Hermione was crying too hard to answer. Grasping the hand her mother offered, she suddenly snared the surprised woman in a bear hug.

Mrs. Granger hugged her back and exchanged a lost look with her husband over her daughter’s head. "It's all right, Hermione. Whatever it is, we're here."

Her father put his arms around her and helped her over to the couch. Hermione let go of her mum to hold onto him, practically strangling the confused man as she bawled on his shoulder.

"Hermione, what is it?" he crooned, his face tight with worry. "I've never seen you so upset."

"I . . . missed you," she blubbered.

"Well, we missed you too," her mother said, hugging her from behind so she was smashed between them. "No need to cry. You could have come over to see us anytime."

Her father looked around. "Where's that man who was here with you?"  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus hid in the shadows, watching the reunion through the picture window. He'd finished what he set out to do. She was happy. He would find some solace in that.

He turned away and started toward the Apparition point. He just wanted to go back to Hogwarts and sit alone in his room. Maybe take a hot bath . . . and slit his wrists.

His insides felt decayed, as if a part of him had died. He didn't know how much more of his heart could wither away before it just disintegrated to dust. His life was meant to be one of loss—of watching from the outside. It was time to accept that and move on.

Apparating to the gates of Hogwarts, he let himself in and made his way to the castle.

Down to his dungeon palace.

Alone.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __  __

Once Hermione had controlled her crying enough to talk, she explained to her parents what had really happened. She had no idea how Snape had pulled it off, so she couldn't tell them how they’d come to be back home. They took the news (and missing years) fairly well.

They stayed up all night, talking and hugging; and when the sun rose, she Flooed in sick to work for the first time in her life. She must have looked a fright, because her boss told her to take all the time she needed.

She spent the entire day with her parents, never letting them out of her sight. She had her family back. Her mum _and_ her dad. They knew who she was. She would never again have to watch them from afar. She could just get up any day she wanted and go see them. Talk to them. Hug them. Hear them say they loved her. 

She was home.

When night fell, her mother suggested that they all get some sleep; Hermione could see how exhausted they were. Recovering memories could take a lot out of a person. She kissed them goodnight and told them she'd return in the morning.

She went back to her flat, but she didn't go to bed.

She started brewing.  
  
__  __  __  __  __  __  __

Severus rolled his eyes as the knocking at his door persisted. Didn’t they know when to give up? “Go away!” Couldn't they leave him to his misery in peace? The knocking became louder, and he growled in frustration, slamming his wine glass on the table so hard the base cracked with a hairline fracture. “This better be a matter of life and death, or I’m going to kill you myself.”

He ripped open the door, and blinked in surprise. “Miss Granger?” She was still in the same clothes she’d worn two nights before. “What are y—?”

Hermione didn’t let him finish. She mashed her face into his warm black dressing gown and hugged him so hard his back cracked.

Severus just stood there with his arms limp at his sides, fighting the urge to hug her in return. He couldn’t take another goodbye. If he put his arms around her, he would lose his mind and make a fool of himself. Again. “What are you doing here?”

“Why did you leave?” she asked, muffled by his chest.

“I was no longer needed.”

She looked up at him. His face was blank, and he was staring at the wall behind her. “How could you think that? I’ll always need you.”

He bit his tongue and kept his eyes on the wall.

“I want you to meet my parents. I told them all about you.”

He looked down at her. Was she completely mad? Meet her parents?

“And,” she said, reaching into her pocket with a smile and pulling out a phial, “I have a surprise for you too. I’ve been working on it for a couple of weeks now.”

Severus stared at the sparkling potion pinched between her fingers. It was an iridescent blue-green that shifted colors as the light played over it. He’d never seen anything like it.

Hermione bit her lip and smiled at his puzzled expression. He seemed to be in a strange mood again, but she was too excited to let that slow her down. “I promise I’ll explain, but . . . I want you to drink it first. Let’s go sit down and see if it works.”

“See if it works?” he muttered, staring at the back of her head as she dragged him into his own room. She _had_ gone mad.

Hermione pulled him down on the settee with her. “Don’t worry, it’s safe; I tested it on myself, and I’m still here.”

He was completely lost.

Turning to him, she sat up on one knee and put her arm around him. She couldn’t wipe the dancing smile from her face, but she tried her best to tone it down. Sliding her hand down his cheek, she stroked his rough jaw. It looked as if he hadn’t shaved in a day. He turned away from her, cringing from her touch.

“Severus? What’s wrong? I promise the potion is safe. Please just drink it. For me. If it doesn’t work, I’ll go back to the drawing board; but I’m too excited to wait any longer. You trust me, don’t you?” She pushed the phial into his hand.

He turned his head and met her eyes. Why was she acting as if nothing had changed between them? Was she that cold, or that stupid? Neither of those options sounded plausible. He looked at the phial in his hand again. The scary part was he did trust her. Even after all the heartache. She would never intentionally harm him. He didn’t think she’d gone out on the prowl for Draco. It was just something that had happened. Sighing, he pulled the cork from the top and got an immediate whiff of pussy. _What the devil?_ He glanced at her, and she gave him an encouraging smile and nodded at him to drink it. Bringing it slowly to his lips, he closed his eyes and whispered, “I trust you,” before downing the whole thing in one quick gulp. “How long until this—?”

The room went black.

Severus couldn’t see or hear anything. He wasn’t even sure he still had a body. He was floating in a void of darkness. Attempting to call out for help proved fruitless. No sound emerged. There was no up or down; he was nowhere.

Just when he was starting to get worried, he perceived a low hum in the distance. That was a relief. Perhaps it was someone coming to rescue him from this ambiguity. The hum grew in volume, but he could discern no direction. It was all around him.

The hum began to pulse in waves, and he suddenly recognized it. It was her moan—that sobbing “I need to come” moan she'd let out right before she started bawling and tearing at the sheets. He’d always fancied that sound, but now he found it more calming than arousing. Whatever this place was, it must not be too bad if her moans were on a constant loop.

The sound slowly unfolded, becoming more distinct as layer after layer was removed. It morphed from a constant din of overlapping ecstasy to a single voice. She was right there with him. All around him. He could hear background noises too, faint but unmistakable. It was the sound of her wet pussy, the squelch of a soaked snatch being pounded like an anvil.

“Severuuuuus.”

Merlin’s balls. He would have been hard as a rock if he had a body. He could almost feel her breath as she gasped and shuddered. 

“Oh God! Fuck me, Severus.”

A blue light appeared in the distance, and he watched its approach without blinking. It seemed to grow in time with her increasingly hungry moans. She started to sob again, and he longed to find her and wrap her in his arms while she came. He knew exactly how hard she’d be shaking as the orgasm rocked her body. The bed would be soaked, and he would be washed clean in her holy water.

“Uuuunh-nh-nh-nh-nh-nh!” 

Even though he could see nothing but that blue light, he could still picture the tears streaming down her face, her eyes just as wet as her pussy. To anyone who didn’t know her, she would appear to be in the grips of heart-rending anguish; but he knew she only cried like that when her heart was being pierced by the intensity of their fucking. He would be right there with her through every sob, loving every second of her openness, purring out his praise and desire for her so she’d let go even more. He loved that she wasn’t afraid to rip open her own soul and let him watch her transform into a quivering mass of pure emotion.

He wished he had a voice so he could tell her that.

The nothingness morphed around him, rushing around his body like somebody was spinning the gravity. The smell of her pussy filled the air, and he hoped that meant he had a nose. No garden on earth smelled as glorious as that plot of land between her legs. He must have a mouth to go with his nose, because it was watering.

Everything rushed into a swirling, moaning carnival ride of disorientation; and he felt his heart pounding right where he should feel it. He had a heart again.

“SEVERUS!”

The blue light burst before his eyes like a firework going off a foot in front of his face. It should have blinded him, but he didn’t even flinch. There was a pulsing heart of green sparkling in the center of it, and he couldn’t look away from its dazzling display.

Her shout echoed around him, wrapping him in a cocoon of sound and warmth.

“Severus! Severus!”

He must have a face again too, because his cheek was stinging. Opening his eyes, he blinked up at her blurry countenance. She was hovering over him, her expression anxious and pinched. He realized he was on the floor, and she was kneeling over him. For a split second he thought they’d been having sex, but then he noticed she was still dressed. _What just happened?_

“Fucking hell,” she sighed, stroking his cheek. "You scared the piss out of me. Are you all right?"

Severus blinked and nodded, and she started pressing her lips to every available inch of his face.

“If you don’t tell me you’re all right, I’m going to get Poppy,” she threatened between kisses.

“I’m all right,” he whispered, but it came out all garbled and phlegmy. Clearing his throat, he said it again. “I’m all right.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. They both heard it at the same time.

Severus rolled to his side and pushed up on one arm. Clearing his throat again, he spit a wad of mucus into the fire and looked at her. “I’m . . . all right.”

The rasp was gone. His voice purred out, smooth as silk. Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth in ecstatic shock. “It worked.”

Snape couldn’t remember the last time he'd spoken without the dry scrape and tickle rushing past his vocal cords like rattling leaves. He rose to his knees and got closer to the fire. There was still something caught in his throat.

Hermione rubbed his back as he spit into the fire again. He sounded like a ninety-year-old smoker hacking up a lung. It was the most disgusting and beautiful thing she’d ever heard in her entire life. She kissed his cheek with a smile. "Can you tell me what happened when you took the potion? Do you remember?"

Severus glanced at her. She looked delighted by his gobs of mucus. "There was a blue light, and I could hear you moaning my name. You came all over my face, and the blue light exploded like a firecracker."

Hermione beamed at him then bit her lip. “Severus?”

He had to spit again before answering her. “Yes?”

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I love you.”

He stared at her in disbelief. Could this night have any more hairpin turns? “You do?”

“Yes, and it’s okay if you don’t want to say it back. I just didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

“Why were you keeping it a secret? I told you to be honest with me. And why would you think I didn’t want to hear it?” He cleared his throat and hocked another morsel of mucus into the fire.

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times in confusion. “Because . . . you . . . You said if a sub and dom fell in love, they’d have to end things.”

He suddenly understood why she’d been acting so oddly. “No, pet,” he breathed, horrified that she could have ever thought he was telling her to stifle her feelings. “I said their agreement would come to an end. I meant they wouldn’t need it if they were in love; it would be pointless. They would just be a real couple."

Hermione’s chest loosened, and her eyes started to burn with the promise of tears. "So you wanted me to say it?"

He spit again and looked back at her. "Of course I wanted you to say it." Snape covered her hand with his.

Hermione smiled and leaned over to kiss his cheek. He spit into the fire again, and she stroked the back of his greasy head. "Are you really all right? Maybe I should get you some water."

He nodded and coughed up another ball of phlegm. "That might be for the best. It feels as if Flobberworms have been mating in my trachea."

She grinned and kissed his head as she got off the floor. Retrieving the glass from the bathroom, she filled it with water. She brought it back and knelt beside him as he drained it in three seconds flat. "More?"

He passed her the glass and nodded, spitting once again. _Bloody hell, would this ever end?_

She refilled the glass with her wand and handed it back to him.

Snape gulped it down and took a deep breath. He should just come clean with her. "Do you love Draco too?"

Hermione stared at him as if he had five heads. "What!"

"I saw you with your arms around him at the Ministry. If you're attracted to him, I understand; but I don't know if I can share you."

Hermione took the glass from him and set it on the floor. "Severus, look at me." When he met her eyes, she held his face in her hands so he couldn't turn away. "Draco has been helping me with the potion. I haven't been 'seeing' him. And I certainly don't love him."

His stomach unclenched. She wasn't lying. There was nothing but honesty in her eyes. "Then why . . . ?"

"He found me a book I needed in his family library. If he hadn't found it, I wouldn't have been able to finish the potion. I was just hugging him because I was excited about the book."

Severus breathed out a single note of relief. She was still telling the truth. Hugging someone because of a book. That sounded just like her. Hell, sometimes he took her to bookstores as foreplay. If the book was that rare, she had probably wet her knickers as soon as it touched her fingers. He was impressed she'd restrained herself to just hugging.

"Draco knows all about us. And he's happy for us. Well . . . for you. I think I'm just starting to grow on him."

"You don't want Draco at all?" He had to be sure.

She shook her head. "Not in the slightest. I only want you."

Thank Merlin. He put his hand over hers to keep her from letting go, but he turned to the fire and spit again. Looking back into her eyes, he pulled her palm to his lips and kissed her heart line. "I never pictured myself as a mucus machine when I said this for the first time, but . . . I love you too.”

Hermione's face crumpled even though she was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. The tears won out and spilled down her face. "I know," she whispered. "The potion wouldn't have worked if you didn't." She leaned in and kissed his lips, sliding her hands around his neck to keep him close.

Severus could only process that for a few seconds before he was too distracted by her tongue to think. The muscles in his neck loosened, and even though she was cutting off his airways, he felt as if he could finally take a clear breath.

Hermione pulled back and wiped her face, still smiling at him. "Do you need to spit again?"

Snape grinned and shook his head. He really didn't. "I think whatever was stuck in my gullet is gone."

"I forgot what you used to sound like," she whispered as she ran her fingers over his Adams's apple. "Your voice is making me wet. Tell me more about your phlegm."

He laughed, rich and deep, all trace of gravel gone. "How about we talk about something important while you cream your knickers. For instance, I think you should tell me what was in that potion . . . and why it smelled like pussy."

Hermione pushed away the tears standing in her eyes. "That would be because the secret ingredient was 'ambrosia.'"

"Yours I hope."

She smiled and nodded. "I had to combine some different magical modalities to create something powerful enough to heal you."

"You created that potion on your own?"

She nodded. "Draco helped me at the end, and he got me the most important books. He—"

Severus cut her off with another kiss. She'd developed a new potion on her own. Just for him. He was turned on by not only the love behind that act but the sheer intelligence it demanded. The thought of her poring over books and sweating over cauldrons for his sake made his heart want to come. His wonderful little bookworm had set her powerful brain on the sole goal of healing his voice. And she'd succeeded. He wanted to hump her big beautiful bushy head.

Hermione pulled back from him, out of breath and grinning. He'd almost worn off her lips. "I'm afraid to tell you what else I did—you might ravish me right here on the floor."

He thought that sounded just as brilliant. "I might. Tell me how you made the potion first."

"Well . . . it's a combination of a basic throat healing potion mixed with sex magic and sound imbuement."

"Sound imbuement," he repeated. "Like the paper we read about the wizards experimenting in Switzerland?"

"Yep. Except I found out that they're not the first ones with the idea. Using sexual sounds to intensify magic and potions has been around for centuries. Then I found out about the healing power of sexual fluids and knew I could make a real powerhouse. I imbued my juices with both the energy of my orgasm and also the energy of a set of words and sounds to focus it even more."

"My God," he breathed. "That's ingenious."

"Well, I was really close to having it all worked out, but I knew something wasn't right. Then Draco told me to brew it the way you fuck me, and it all came together."

"Brew it the way I fuck you?"

"Yes. I had to let the potion get worked up to a state bordering on explosion, then I added the pussy power and let it bloom."

He grinned. "You teased your potion to the brink then tickled its clit?"

Laughing, she nodded. "Pretty much. It changed colors after that, which is what I was expecting."

"What did you mean I had to love you for it to work?"

She bit her lip. That was more difficult to explain. "The potion was sex based, so it had to start gaining energy here." She put her hand between his legs and cupped his equipment, smiling as his eyes went dark with lust. "The strength is built on sexual energy. It's the bedrock of both change and stability. Your desire for me was never in question, so I knew it would be a good platform to build on. Then that energy had to travel up to your throat." She slid her hand along the front of his body, gliding past his belly button toward his chest. "It picked up a spectrum of energy to aid in the healing as it moved up your core." She stopped when she got to his chest and rested her hand there. "But to get to your throat, it had to pass through your heart. It's kind of the gatekeeper. But it's also the power needed for real healing. If the energy had your heart's support, then it would be unstoppable. But if your heart was closed off, it would shut down the whole production. And since the potion was so tied to me and my energy, you had to love me too to let it through."

Severus stared at her in awe. She'd been delving into some pretty esoteric magic. And pinning all her success on his love was a huge gamble. Unless she already knew the truth before she started researching. "That was a brave move."

She shrugged.

"You knew I loved you before you started, didn't you?"

She smiled. "I hoped you did."

Bloody hell. She'd created an entirely new potion with just a handful of hope. What would she do with a double helping of certainty? "I have never wanted to fuck you more than I do at this very moment."

Hermione laughed and slid her hand back down to his lap. "First you have to tell me how you fixed my parents."

"Well there went my erection."

She grinned and slid her hand inside his dressing gown to feel him through his pajamas. "I need to know."

He had to get out of some of his clothes; he was burning up. He explained as he loosened the knot in his belt. "I suddenly remembered seeing something about memory charms in the folios of notes Albus left me in his will. I had to search through half his scratchings and doodles before I found what I was looking for. He had a theory for reversing memory charms that had never been tested. It was a combination of memory wiping, retrieval, and then resetting everything with a little . . . zap to the brain, followed by a restorative elixir." He saw her eyes go wide. "They weren't in any danger. I tested everything before laying the groundwork. When I was sure everything was doable and safe, I wiped their memories and had them sequestered . . . in unconscious stasis . . . with Gretchen and Bart. Then when the elixir was finished, I went back and performed the remaining spells. I had to put them back to sleep to get them here un-traumatized. Then I just woke them up when I got you to the house. Gretchen and Bart know your secrets now, by the way; and they said to owl them when things have settled down."

"How did you get them here? How did you know about the house?"

"Ah." He smiled, tossing his dressing gown in the chair. "Minerva mentioned that one of the students lived near your house in Gishing's Grove. I asked her what she meant, and she explained how you were keeping the house in your parents’ names; she said you still owned it even though you never went there. And Kingsley was kind enough to procure an international Portkey for me to deliver them directly to the living room so I wouldn't have to get them through the streets undetected."

She wrapped him a tight hug, kissing his neck. That was a lot of work for two people he didn't really know. "Thank you, Severus. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"I know," he murmured, kissing her temple. "I was happy to do it for you."

"Will you come with me to meet them tomorrow morning?"

"That sounds pleasantly terrifying."

She smiled and sniffed his neck. He smelled like sex and bedtime. "They'll love you. Not just because you brought them back, but because I love you."

Severus was never going to get tired of hearing those words. He started to unbutton his pajamas. "I want to hear you screaming that for the whole school to hear."

Hermione smiled as his white chest was bared. "As long as you keep talking, I'll scream anything you like."

He grinned and tugged off his bottoms before starting on her clothes. "I'll talk to you all night long. You can stay, can't you?"

She nodded, and he pulled her shirt over her head, making her skin rupture with gooseflesh in the dungeon air. Meeting his glinting black eyes, she searched his gaze and was excited to see jubilant light there instead of the usual guarded gates. He pulled off her bra and lowered her to the carpet, where it was warm from the fire.

Snape smiled at her grin and started on her shoes and socks. When she reached down to unfasten her jeans, he growled and shook his head. "Undressing you is my job now."

Hermione shivered at the silky authority of his words. "You did _my_ job for _me_ ," she said, nodding at his naked body as she rested her arms above her head.

Severus ran his eyes over her stretched torso, climbing the mounds of her breasts to the tiptop of her rocky nipples. She looked like a flickering angel in the firelight. "You'll have plenty of opportunities to undress me in the future, but tonight . . . you're mine, little girl."

Her hips rocked as her pussy contracted in a convulsion of agreement. Holy fuck. His growly sex voice was no longer like gravel bumping over her clit. It was like velvet sliding between her legs and caressing her folds. "Yes, sir."

He smirked. Her eyes had gone dark as night, and she was already grinding her hips like a horny hula dancer. It had been almost two weeks since he'd heard her say sir in that buttery whisper. It gathered up his entire sex like a cock ring of words. He'd missed all his Hermiones, and he wanted to bring out each one and fuck the hell out the lot of them. Resting his hands on her fly, he slowly unbuttoned the top and then slid down the zip. "Lift up your hips, love. It's time to get you ready for bed."

Hermione stared at him, her breathing accelerating to a fast skip. How did he do that? How did he look right at her and say something totally benign in a way that sounded completely filthy? It was a disconcerting combination of suggestion and dominance that left her feeling like a naughty little girl. _It's time to get you ready for bed._ It was something you'd say to a child, but never in that tone. Her schoolgirl fantasies found a commonality with this playful sex kitten inside her who liked to be cuddled and fucked with equal depravity.

The last two weeks had been a maelstrom of stress. She needed him to take her to their private world where he called the shots, where worry and shame were banished and forgotten. The only rules were the ones they set for themselves. With him, she was free to let go and be whatever she felt like being. If she wanted to be his queen, he'd kneel at her feet and masterfully play her devoted king as he licked her royal rump. If she wanted to be his little girl who got her panties pulled down before being tucked in at night, he didn't think that was taboo. She'd never seen him flinch once when reading her favorite erotic stories. His ability to pinpoint what aroused her most in each scenario was uncanny.

She was safe with him no matter how much some of her desires embarrassed her. He didn't seem disturbed by any of it.

Severus tugged her jeans over her hips, and when they were free from the curve of her arse, he lifted her legs in the air and slowly stripped her. "Did my naughty little girl get her knickers all wet for me?"

Hermione blushed, but she couldn't help smiling as she nodded.

Severus cast aside her trousers and held back her legs with one hand so he could see her cotton-covered cunny. Her knickers were white with little pink polka dots. She hadn't been trying to turn anybody on when she got dressed Thursday morning. But what she didn’t know was that he was just as aroused by her innocent side as he was by Hermione-the-seductress. It made him want to flip her over his knee and turn her into his lascivious little Lolita. There was a thin sliver of wetness splitting her cotton crotch, and the pink dots had darkened to magenta where she'd soaked through. He ran his finger over that damp line. "What's this, pet? Were you making me another present?"

Hermione nodded again, peeking at him from around her legs.

He continued to trace the peninsula. Up and down. _Look at those eyes. You're so ready to let go, aren't you?_ "That was sweet of you. They're getting awfully sticky now. Is it time to pull down your panties and check on your little pussy?”

 _Bloody hell._ He was going to talk her to climax. She could feel the lubrication spreading over her labia, leaking out to meet his finger.

Severus pushed her legs toward her chest with one hand and gently peeled her knickers over her backside. Her pussy peeked out, and he prodded her damp gusset from her crease. Dragging her knickers to her knees, he left her bound in them while he stroked the backs of her legs, grazing his fingers over her bum. "When was the last time I inspected this pussy? It looks awfully messy."

Hermione's face burned. She hadn't showered since Wednesday night. Messy might be putting it lightly. "I'm sorry, sir."

He pushed her legs further so he could see even more of her glistening glory. "Sorry? Whatever for?"

"I'm not clean for you."

He glanced at her face. Was she serious? "Let's just take a look and see how naughty you've been."

Hermione bit her lip, panting in excitement as he ran his fingers over her muff.

"Keep those legs back for me," he muttered, using both hands to pull apart her seam.

Hermione moaned softly as the air breezed over her soaked slit. She could feel his eyes nudging her clit, his gaze penetrating her sex.

Severus breathed out a sigh of awe. It had been far too long since he'd see those rosy petals. Everything shone in the firelight, cream and clear honey coating every nook and cranny. He could already smell her; the musky scent mixed with her sweet sweat. He subconsciously licked his lips. "My little girl is _very_ messy. We'd better get you cleaned up.”

Hermione thought he was going to take her to the bathroom, but he just pulled off her panties and spread her legs.

"Nice and wide, love. Show me everything."

He got down on his stomach and stared her sticky snatch in the face. _Oh God._ The scent of pussy was everywhere, surrounding him like his hallucination. His head spun with the aroma. It was meaty. Animal. He was going to overdose on her. Putting his nose to her split shell, he took a deep breath, rising above the earthly plane on the notes of her perfume. _Sweet Circe._ If he passed out in her pussy, he hoped she'd have the decency to leave him there.

Hermione picked up her head and stared down between her legs. He looked as though he was meditating, breathing deeply, his eyes closed, a look of transcendence lighting his face. When he dropped his nose to her clit and inhaled her nub like a vacuum, she gasped and spread her legs wider.

"This pussy is mine now," he groaned into her folds.

Hermione squirmed as the vibrations hummed through her.

"Every night, I'm going to pull down your panties and eat this juicy little quim. You don't wash it until I've had my fill. Do you understand me?"

His words were muffled, but she understood him perfectly. The promise rang through her like a jolt of electricity. He inhaled again, and she rolled her hips toward him. "Yes, sir," she whispered.

Severus kissed her entrance. "Good girl. You can have my cock however you like it, but if you wash this pussy before I eat it, I'm going to take you to the Great Hall and put you over my knee in front of everyone."

Hermione didn't really think he would do that, but she was excited by the threat nonetheless. "It's yours, sir."

Severus lifted his head from her soft sex and looked up at her. "I promise I'll give you whatever you need in exchange. Anything. Sweet, dirty, fast, slow, pain, pleasure—anything."

She smiled. His nose and lips were glazed with her goo. "I want all of those things as long as they're with you."

A grin curled the corners of his mouth. "I do too, pet. Now, I think it's time for my midnight snack."

Hermione arched off the floor as his tongue sliced up the center of her slit. He lapped every surface, cleaning her like a cat. Every time he reached her clit, she moaned and begged him for more.

Severus sucked and licked every trace of salty cream from her sex. The muskiness was slowly replaced by sweet nectar, the day's buildup overcome by the lighter flavor of arousal. She went from wet to satin slick, her core leaking an inviting sap of seduction.

Feeling around in his discarded clothes for his wand, he found it and brought it to her rear passage. One non-verbal spell later, and she was gasping and shivering as the charm cleaned her colon. After wetting his finger in her sopping pussy, he pressed it to her dark swirl.

“Unhhhh,” she groaned. “I’ve been your good girl. Please finger my bottom hole, sir.”

Oh yes. She was getting good at this game.

Hermione shuddered as he combined a wiggling finger in her backdoor with an oral assault round front. She came quickly, shouting his name as her first orgasm in days roared through her like a missile. His finger shimmied in her bum, and she stuttered out a groan of lingering lust. “Severus!”

He closed his eyes and listened to her. It was the most beautiful song he’d ever heard. When she went still, he left her clit to get a taste elsewhere. Kissing his way up her belly, he followed the path from her sex to her heart. Branching off to the left, he lapped all around her areola, breathing over her nipple but not touching it yet. She jerked and moaned, anxiously awaiting touchdown. “Soon, pet. First we need to discuss proper bedtimes.”

Her head was spinning. If he didn’t touch her nipple soon, she’d go mad. “Bedtimes?”

“Do you know what time it is right now?”

She had no clue. She hadn’t slept the night before; her brain was getting fuzzy. “No, sir.”

“It’s past midnight. Are you in bed?”

“No, sir. I’m on the floor.”

He chuckled. “I see that. Tomorrow you’re going to have a proper punishment for not going to bed on time. Your bottom is going to be red and sore while you stand in the corner. That’s what you need, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. I want it.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“Hugs.”

He grinned. “That goes without saying. Kisses too. Your bottom may be purple when we’re done, but I need my little girl to know how much I love her.” The more he said it, the more he wanted to say it.

Hermione looked down at him and smiled. “I love you too.”

Severus gave her what she’d been waiting for, latching on and sucking her deep into his mouth.

“Unh!” She arched into his face, looking at the room upside down as the wet heat of his tongue swirled over her stiff nipple. “Thank you, sir!”

He smiled around her pink tip and sucked her hard so her flesh swelled even larger in his mouth. Going to the other side, he fed on her succulent, soft skin, nipping her rigid peak with his teeth.

“Please, Severus!”

“What do you need, pet?” he murmured around his mouthful.

“You! I need you inside me. I miss you so much.”

Bloody hell. Was she trying to rip out his heart? “I miss you too,” he whispered, crawling up to face her. “Is this how you want to do it? Me on top?”

She grabbed his face and pulled him down for a searing kiss. He grunted in surprise and ground his cock into her silken drippings. The deeper she kissed him, the harder he got. He reached between them and adjusted his length so it rubbed her ruby.

Severus couldn’t believe how easily she tongued away his rational mind. Her hands raked back into his hair, tugging at the roots; he felt the pull all the way down his spine. Her entire slit was slick with liquid desire; it warmed him even more than the fire.

He forgot how to breathe and had to pull back to keep from getting light-headed. “Are you ready for this?”

“Yesssss,” she hissed, rolling her head against the carpet.

Reaching down, he aimed himself into her heat and nudged her juicy juncture with his weeping glans. He found out that after more than a week apart, her pussy had lost its Snape-sized accommodations, reverting to a two or three finger limit. It felt like the first time. Memories of The Leaky Cauldron came flooding back to him. Her walls stretched snugly around his cock like a silken fist. She always felt tight to him, but this was like a battle of python versus python. She was going to squeeze the life out him.

Hermione’s eyes rolled back, and she gripped his shoulder with one hand, digging her nails into his skin as his cock dug its way into her depths. How had she forgotten the divine feeling of his initial penetration? Her pulse was pounding. She wrapped her legs around him and gritted her teeth as he slid home. It felt as if she’d been shot into orbit. Her attempt to say his name again came out sounding like a mishmash of random sounds and letters.

“I know, pet,” he whispered, nuzzling her throat. Carefully swiveling his hips, he loosened her up so she could get used to the internal stimulation. Her cervix kissed his knob like an old lover, welcoming him back where he belonged. She whimpered and tightened her legs around him, urging him deeper. Snape didn’t think deeper was possible, but he gave her a nice thrust to help her along.

“MMMmmm!”

"Is that what you needed, pet?"

Hermione’s eyes were rolling in her head, chasing her pleasure-wracked brain in circles. "Severus!"

God, he loved that look on her face. "Hold onto me, love."

Hermione slid her arms around his sides and gripped his back in a needy hug. She hugged him with her legs too, locking her calves over his flexing arse and riding his thrusts like a dressage champion. He was better than any thoroughbred. She was going to start calling him the Black Stallion.

"That's it," he purred, tracing her cheek with his nose. "I missed this, pet. Listen to all that pussy. Someone's going sound the tsunami alarm."

Hermione smiled. She was already brainless.

Snape recognized that gasping breath. "Are you close again already, pet?"

She nodded.

Smirking, he kissed her jaw and put his lips to her ear. "Come all over my cock. Let me feel that pussy. Show me what a good girl you are." He shortened his thrusts to hit her favorite spot deep and fast.

Her jaw dropped, and she shouted as her sheath clenched around him. The pleasure had sneaked up on her; it sprang up out of nowhere and demolished her mind. "Ah!"

He smiled and rode through her clutching contractions, growling in her ear just the way she liked.

Hermione swallowed hard and relaxed as the tension faded. Her body went limp, and she plucked her nails from his back. "Oh God," she panted. "That was so good."

Severus had no intention of stopping. He didn't even slow down. "Again."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, sir."

"I'm gonna fuck you till you pass out," he purred. "You're mine now."

Her clit was very fond of both of those ideas. "I'm yours, Severus. Please tell me you love me again."

He grinned and picked up the pace. He was already addicted to the word. "I love you, Hermione. More than anything in the world. I'll do anything for you." He needed to say it a million more times before morning.

She hugged him tighter. "I love you too," she whispered, kissing his neck. "All of you. You're safe with me."

Severus fumbled only one stroke before he found the beat again. Did she know how deeply that hit him? How much he needed that refuge? Being safe with her made him calmer than he'd ever been in his entire life. Having her love was like having a shield deflecting the horrors of his past. He'd never really had anyone on his side before. It was a relief to not have to face life alone. “You're safe with me too, love. I'll take care of you until my last breath."

She squeezed him as hard as she could. She didn't want to think about his last breath. "Don't ever leave me."

His heart twinged, and he bit his tongue to fight the tightness in his throat. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I need you, Severus. I was so scared when you left for the weekend without me."

The twinge splintered to a crack. "I'm so sorry, love. I just wanted to surprise you. I couldn't stand being without you either."

All the fear and anxiety of the past two weeks was catching up with her. "I thought I was too needy for you."

Severus squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath to steady his voice. "You're not needy—you're affectionate. And I can't get enough of it. You're the only witch since Lily who's treated me as though I have a heart. I . . . I was devastated when I thought you'd left me for Draco."

Hermione couldn't hold him any tighter. Her arms were going to fall off. "Never," she rasped. "I've never once even considered leaving you. Not for a second. I should have told you I loved you the first time I even thought it. I will never keep anything from you ever again."

His heart and dick both jolted with joy.

"Except birthday and Christmas presents," she added. "Those are secrets."

The tension in his jaw relaxed to a smile. He hadn't gotten a birthday present since he was twelve. Maybe he'd actually start celebrating being alive now that she was around. "You can always tell me anything, good or bad."

"I know," she whispered, blinking back her tears. "You too. I want you to be honest with me no matter what."

"In that case," he murmured, moving back to her lips, "I think I should tell you that I want you to live here from now on. I have no intention of spending one more night of my life sleeping alone. The four days we're apart every week are just torture."

Hermione nodded and brushed his nose with hers. "I hate it too. When you leave on Monday mornings, it feels like my heart is breaking."

He was about to gnaw a hole through his cheek. "Thank Merlin," he whispered. "I thought I was just being overly-dramatic."

The firelight made the shine in his eyes more noticeable, and Hermione felt her own tears spilling over when she realized he was so close to crying. He was probably fighting it with every fiber of his willpower.

"What is it, pet?" he crooned, using one hand to brush away the wet tracks from her face. "Do you need something?"

She smiled. "I just love you."

Dammit. He should have kept his face in her hair. Seeing her eyes dripping like hot fudge just made the ache in his chest all the more intense. He took in a shaky breath. "I love you too." He kissed her softly.

"I'm getting close again. Please fuck me faster."

He turned up the heat a few more degrees. "How's that feel?" He already knew the answer; her feet only tapped out that involuntary jig when she was close to another climax.

"Your cock feels so good. Just a little faster."

Severus gritted his teeth and put his hips into it. She gasped and clasped her arms and legs around him.

"Yes." Her entire body coiled with building pressure. The rushing in her head returned, and she could hear her pulse thumping in her ears.

Severus gave her what he knew would drive her off the deep end. Faster. Rattling her insides. Rooting through to her heart. Overwhelming her with sensation. Her pussy started to shudder and rebel. It tried to push him out. He was staying right where he was. Lengthening his thrust, he grunted as her nails sank into his back. Her limbs trembled around him, and her belly was like granite. Anguish painted every line of her face. The release of pleasure stayed just out of her reach. She was hunting it down and being stalked by it at the same time.

Her gasps became choked—rapid and short. Hermione's body, mind, and soul were completely focused on the growing storm rolling through her body. Thunder crashed inside her, and she was suddenly so close she could taste the ozone. "Severus!” She barely got out the word before the clenching in her pussy took hold. "Ahh!"

He watched the agony of bliss crumple her face. Her muscles grabbed his cock like an angry milkmaid, and he knew he couldn't fight that kind of strength. His balls began to twitch, and he groaned her name as his dick hit the ejection button.

As soon as her orgasm scaled its highest peak, she snapped. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she gasped as the storm blustered out of her. She didn't know if she was just tired, or relieved, or happy, or if he'd fucked her so hard she was crying in exultation. It was possible all of those things had joined forces to make her climax both a physical and emotional outpouring.

Snape's own orgasm blasted through him, leaving his body, heart, and mind reeling. He felt both destroyed and renewed as the last of his seed joined her pool of passion; those fluids would mingle inside her for hours, filling her with a creamy concoction of their love. He opened his eyes and saw the tears pouring down her cheeks. She suddenly let out a loud sob and began to bawl.

Severus's heart lurched toward his stomach. This was his chance to take care of her the way he'd wanted to when he was passed out on the floor. Scooping his arms under her, he held her against his heart. "That's it, love. Let it out."

The panic in her died as soon as she heard his encouragement.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he whispered, kissing her wet cheek.

The sobbing lost some of its momentum, and she just cried as he kissed her face. "Why am I always crying?"

He smiled and pressed his lips to her salty skin. "Because your heart's so big; it has to drain itself when it gets too full. My cock just made you spring a leak."

She blubbered out a wet laugh. "It always does."

Severus's smile widened, and he thumbed her cheek clean. "I love that you're so willing to give me everything you have."

Sniffling, she brought her hand up to his face and drew her fingers over one black eyebrow. "Your heart's big too."

"I had to stretch it to fit you inside."

Hermione smiled cautiously. "Is that why your eyes are overflowing?"

Severus jerked his hand to his face. He wasn't crying. Was he? His lashes were wet, and he smeared the dampness across his face with the heel of his hand. "That's just sweat."

Hermione put her hand over his to still him. "You wanted to make sure you were human. You can't be human without tears."

"I'm not crying," he said firmly.

She shook her head. "I didn't say you were. I was just happy to see so much love in your eyes."

He relaxed into her warm gaze. How did she say the one thing that melted his discomfort? "That's because I'm looking at you."

Hermione grinned at him through her tears. "What do you see in my eyes?"

Severus could see galaxies of possibility in her eyes. He saw love. He saw acceptance. He saw everything that was good about himself. But most of all, he saw his salvation. She shattered the shackles of his past. And that was a gift which surpassed even the miracle of regaining his voice. The answer came to his lips with no hesitation. "My future."


	15. Epilogue: Trick or Treat

Hermione's bum was a nice shade of magenta. It matched the roses on her Marie Antoinette costume. The cane had left the most gorgeous lines across her arse. Her pirate had a taste for discipline. The cane had led, as it always did, to a flurry of fucking.

Snape was where he belonged: on top of her, with his cock safely inside her pussy. He was still teasing her, rocking gently with little speed. She'd already come once, nudged over the edge by his persistent pelvis; but she was ready to come again. There was only so much of his silky talk she could withstand before losing all sanity.

Her layers of skirts were shoved up around her waist, and Severus's breeches were down around his knees. She'd gotten his shirt unbuttoned, but only his sword had been completely removed. Her eyes were like burnished mahogany behind her mask, and he couldn't stop staring into their gold-flecked depths. He wanted to see her coming undone again. Halloween was a time for tricks and treats. She had taken care of the former before they'd gone to the feast in the Great Hall, bobbing for his balls like apples before sucking down his knob like a lolly; and he'd give her a whole night of the latter if she was up for it.

"Mmm," he hummed, licking her neck. "Listen to that pussy. I bet the whole school can hear how wet you are. Everyone thinks the dungeons are leaking, but I keep telling them it's just you."

Her face went red, but she couldn't help laughing. "Your dick is damming the flow nicely."

"I know you love being the wettest witch in the castle, you naughty little minx. You know how I take care of naughty little girls, don't you?"

His voice covered her clit like warm honey. Even his talented tongue couldn't compete with that rich rumble. "Yes, sir. You fuck them till they're good girls."

He snorted and picked up the pace. "You should be the best girl in the world by now."

"Unnhhh!"

"So close already, pet? You really did fancy that caning. I should take down your knickers tomorrow and show everyone what a pretty striped bottom you have. You want everyone to know how much I love you, don't you?"

"Yes, sir!"

He could feel her body stuttering and shivering on the brink of release. "When we go to the Quidditch match tomorrow, I don't want you to wear any knickers. You're going to sit in my lap the whole time, and if my trousers get wet, I'm going to turn you over my knee right there in the stands. Everyone's going to see what a little discipline can do for my wet little witch."

"I'm gonna come, sir!"

"I know, love. Say my name. I want them to hear you all the way in Gryffindor Tower."

The release smacked into her like a wrecking ball. "Severus!"

"That's it," he hissed as she came around him. He fucked her a little faster and pushed himself over with her. "Hermione!"

She whispered his name again as he shuddered against her. Her pussy kept pulsing and throbbing, leaving a tingling trail from her clit to her heart. The way he grunted in her ear made her warm and happy. There was no better sound in the world.

Severus's body finally relaxed, and he rested on top of her for a minute before he could move again. She was the best pillow he'd ever had. "I knew that bedtime story I read you about public punishment turned you on," he teased.

"That’s no secret."

He smirked into her hair. "I really do want you to sit in my lap at the game tomorrow."

"And if I get your trousers wet?"

He chuckled and kissed the side of her face. "Then they'll match all my other trousers."

A grin tugged at her mouth, and she pulled off his mask and stared into his eyes. Hermione drew his face to hers and kissed him. She was ready for another go (and he'd be ready again as soon as Pandora worked her magic on him). "I love you, Severus."

He smiled and brushed his lips over hers. "And I love you, Mrs. Snape. Happy anniversary."


End file.
